The Missing Island
by Jeannette Hetfield
Summary: Evelyn Dawes does not like pirates, especially Capt. Jack Sparrow, wellknown for his antics, but through a series of events, has to join his crew and learn that not all pirates are bad, just smelly.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A Pirate In Jail

The putrid smells of the dingy jail rudely assailed the senses of the late night visitor. Small shafts of moonlight stabbed their way through every possible crack as if to offer what comfort it could to alleviate the shadowy corners from darkness. As bad luck would have it, the cell desired was the very last in the darkest corner. Most of the other prisoners kept quiet, no doubt asleep. Yet some whispered insanely to themselves, another growled menacingly like a caged animal as the visitor hurried past and drew the lapels of their bulky coat closer together to ward off the increasing chills.

As the last cell came into view, a sharp intake of breath echoed from behind the bars. A scuttling figure emerged, fury in every line of his wrinkled, brown face.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he whispered angrily. "Go home this instant."

"I will not," came the angry huff. "Dad, listen, I—"

"No, I will not listen. This is a dangerous place, sweetheart. The guards are just as unsavory as the vermin in these cages."

"Present company included?"

"I am not amused, girl," he said roughly. "Listen here, you little beast, I am not worth you getting yourself thrown into the cell next to me…or worse."

"You call me a beast?" she hissed. "You're the pirate!"

His hand shot through the bars and covered her mouth. "Lower your voice, Evy."

She pried his hand off. "Please don't call me that. It's Evelyn."

"Bratty wench," he muttered. "What has your mother done to you?"

"I'm not here to talk about her. I'm here to get you out. Look." She pulled a pin from her hair. "Your occupation being what it is, I assume you can pick a lock."

"Easily, but I won't do that. How did you get in here anyway?"

"The guard up front is passed out and the second one left with a barfly." She shoved the hairpin at him, but he refused to accept the thin silver shaft.

"If I escape tonight, your mother will be interrogated and so will you if you stay on the mainland. I won't tell you where I'm going, but they'd keep a close watch on both of you and it would be too risky for me to return in the future."

"Then what do you suggest?" she said, annoyed, shoving the pin back into her hair and wincing as the point pricked her scalp.

Her father looked torn suddenly between telling her something and keeping his mouth shut. But instead of words, he dug around inside the pocket of his breeches and extracted a worn piece of parchment.

"You haven't by any chance got a quill and an ink well have you?"

"Of course, I always bring both every time I visit my father in jail," she said acidly.

He ignored her sharp tongue and said, "There's a small fireplace back there, did you see it?"

"Yes, I did," she confirmed, recalling it was on the left side.

"See if you can find some coal. I can use that just as well."

Evy hurried back the way she came and stopped at the corner. No one was coming so she darted to the left and grabbed a coal lying in a haphazard pile on the floor. After handing the coal over to her father, he borrowed the small knife Evy kept hidden in her boot and began hacking a corner of the black mineral into a fine point.

"You've got some sense at least, seeing as you came armed. Maybe I imparted some wisdom after all."

"Yes, and maybe I'll end up behind bars one day too."

"It appears you've learned a lot from your mother too," he replied idly, sitting down on the dirty floor and using it as a table to write on the parchment.

Evy only felt mildly abashed at her behavior. Her dad hadn't been around much when she was younger. She felt he deserved some of her snappish comments, but only some of them. Even though she didn't want to admit it, part of her admired his bravery and even though he was a pirate, he was a still a good man at heart no matter how much he protested that fact.

"How'd you get caught anyway?"

He paused briefly as he wrote. "Kind of a long story, luv, but suffice it to say, I was double crossed by a retired Royal Navy officer. Though he's not the gentleman he pretends to be either. He's a nasty piece of work."

"Why'd he double cross you?" she asked, interested beyond her control.

"During a none-too friendly game of poker in Tortuga, I acquired a treasure map purposely and relieved the dimwitted gentleman of his possession." At the look on her face, he hastily said, "He had no idea what it was in the first place. Why shouldn't an expert handle such a delicate matter?"

"Continue please," she said through gritted teeth.

'An acquaintance of mine was there too and I let him in on the map. We decided to go halvsies on the loot and then parted ways, determined to meet up in one week to search for the treasure. Unfortunately, I'd been too friendly with the bottle and the Royal Navy prat was able to coerce me into letting him in on it as well. He picked my pocket and had me thrown into jail. They transported me here, to Port Nassau. Two days from now is the day that I was to meet my partner."

Evy watched her father bemusedly. "A treasure map? Do you really believe that?"

"That depends on the situation in question. However, any normal pirate will chase after whatever treasure comes his way."

"All right," she said, "But why won't you let me help you escape tonight?"

"Because, as I already said, a picked lock will look fishy and the authorities may question my family. Don't you think it would be safer for this pirate's partner—" he pointed to himself—"to spring him from jail, therefore, clearing his family of all suspicion?"

"I suppose," she agreed reluctantly, as he finished with the letter and began rolling it up. "But how will this pirate know to spring you from jail?"

"Because, darling daughter, you're going to deliver the message. He's on his way to Port Nassau as we speak. He knew I was coming here to visit my family anyway, but the Royal Navy stuck their business in mine first."

He shoved the letter through the bars right under her nose.

"Me?" she said aghast. "Deliver a letter to a-a…pirate?"

"Come now, you're not afraid of pirates," he said cheekily, "I've been one since before you were born."

"Y-yes, but…well, you're my father. That's different."

He rolled his eyes. "Hardly. I'm as wretched as the next pirate. Being your father doesn't clear me of all ill deeds."

"Maybe not, but still—"

"Evy, do this one thing for me. Have I ever asked you for anything?"

"No, you haven't," she said resigned. His hand was still reaching at her through the bars. She took the letter, but as she did so, he grasped her hand.

"Evy—Evelyn, I mean. Thank you for doing this. I don't why you even bothered coming to see me, frankly."

"Neither do I," she mumbled. "Considering you're in and out of our lives faster than a plague."

He winced. "Ouch. Guess I deserved that. Evy—"

"Never mind," she said brusquely, pulling her hand away. "So, will he believe me…that I'm your daughter?"

"He will. That letter is proof." He snapped his fingers suddenly. "I almost forgot. You'd better give him this as a peace offering." From the confines of his jacket, he pulled out a bottle with an amber liquid inside and pressed it into her hands.

"What is this?"

"Rum of course."

"Rum? I give him rum and he'll listen to me?" she asked in disbelief.

"You give him rum and he'll follow you around like a puppy."

"I think I hate him already," she said with disgust. "What's this poor-excuse-for-a-person's name anyway?"

"Sparrow. _Captain_ Jack Sparrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Discussions and Decisions about Pirates

The way home was both uneventful and quiet. Before leaving she'd draped a black cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood on to conceal her identity, and as added security, she'd taken a small dagger her father had given her when she was thirteen. It was a long walk to the jail and any number of drunken swine might attempt to attack. Evelyn tightened her grip on the dagger as she hurried past a pub. Though it was the middle of the night, fighting and singing still raged inside.

The faded sign of the Dawes' Inn that her family called home appeared just ahead. Her mother had been talking about buying black paint to replace the peeling letters. Evelyn would have to make a note to buy some the next time she went to town for supplies.

Luckily, she was seen by no one—until she shut the door and turned around. She emitted a tiny squeak of surprise. Eyes identical to hers glared angrily back at her.

"Thanks for that, Emerson," she hissed, placing a hand over pounding heart. "I really needed my heart to stop."

"If you tell me that you went to see Dad without me, then I'll feed you to the sharks."

"Calm down," she soothed with a worried glance at her mother's bedroom door. "You'll wake her."

"You were there," he insisted stubbornly.

She rolled her eyes at her older brother. "Yes, and?"

"I told you, Evy, that when you went I wanted to go too," he whined.

"Aren't you a little old to be throwing a tantrum?"

"That's not what I'm doing. You should have waited. Those streets after dark are no place for a young woman to be."

"Don't treat me like a child, Emerson. I'm only a year younger than you. Besides, I did wait for you, but when I left an hour ago you still weren't home and I couldn't wait any longer."

She turned quickly and traversed the path to her tiny room, tiptoeing as she passed her mother's door and then shut the door on her brother's foot.

"Ow!"

"Shut up!" she hissed, yanking him inside and closing the door with a soft click, wincing as its usual creek echoed down the hall.

"He really had you working hard didn't he?" she asked, taking off the cloak and laying it across her rocking chair.

"Yes, old Jenkins had a big order to fill and since he dismissed his other man, there's only the two of us."

"Did you finish?"

He nodded tiredly, rubbing his face and blinking hard as though to stay awake.

"Is that still what you want? Blacksmithing?"

"Honestly, Evy, I hate it. I don't mind hard work, but it's not the kind of work I want."

"So leave."

"Come on, Evy. If I did that, we'd have to sell this place. My wages don't offer much, but we need what help being a blacksmith does give."

She squeezed his arm. "You'll find it, whatever it is. Perhaps a pirate ship will come round and offer you the position of first mate."

He laughed softly. "Of course they will because I'm that fortunate." He then fixed her with beady eyes. "Well?" he demanded. "What happened? Is he all right?"

She didn't have to ask whom he meant. "For now. They're…he's…going to be hanged in two days' time." It sounded even worse to her ears when spoken out loud.

"But—no, that's not fair," he said angrily.

"Being a pirate doesn't exactly get you fair treatment," she pointed out.

"I know that," he said through gritted teeth. Though she knew his anger was not directed at her. "What can we do?"

Evelyn hesitated. She had taken the note from her father in good faith from a dingy cell when escape had seemed possible, but now in the safety of her room, the realization that her father was going to be hanged in two days with numerous armed Royal Navy officers swarming about, the possibility of escape seemed hopeless.

"Dad gave me a letter to give to another pirate whom he says will help him to escape," she said finally.

"Another pirate?" he asked in surprise. "Who?"

"Jack Sparrow."

"Jack Sparrow?" he whispered, voice suddenly reverent.

"Yes, that's the pirate."

"Jack Sparrow…who'd have thought?" He frowned. "What exactly landed Dad in jail anyway?"

Evelyn sighed tiredly, wanting nothing more than to take advantage of what few hours of night were left to sleep, but Emerson didn't move from his spot and waited expectantly for the tale. So she told him all she could remember, stopping to yawn occasionally.

"A retired Royal Navy officer double crossed him…our Dad?" he asked, unconvinced.

"He was roaring drunk at the time. By the time he knew what was going on, it was too late."

"Mm…" he mused. "So this double crosser has the map. Dad's in jail. He'll be hanged in two days, and we have to convince the infamous Jack Sparrow to help him escape." He sat back in her rocking chair, slumping against it and her cloak. "That's a tall order."

"No kidding," she said sarcastically. "Look, can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm exhausted."

"Sure," he said quietly, lost in his own thoughts as he left. "G'night, Evy."

"Evelyn," she corrected automatically. "G'night, Em."

Without bothering to change into her bedclothes, she collapsed onto her bed and immediately regretted doing so because something hard was digging into the small of her back. She pulled out the bottle of rum and eyed it dubiously. How could one bottle of rum convince Sparrow to help them? What sort of man would throw caution to the wind for even one drop of this foul stuff?

Well, one thing was for certain. She'd deliver the message and be done with it. With any luck, she'd never set eyes on another pirate as long as she lived.

Evelyn was wiping down the bar of the inn when her mother came in, skirts swishing in agitation, her eyes ablaze and in her hands, the bottle of rum. Evelyn's cheeks flushed and she ducked down behind the bar, cursing herself for forgetting to hide the bottle.

"Evelyn Melanie Dawes!" she shrieked, obviously having seen her before she could hide.

Evelyn slowly stood up. For an extremely petite woman, her mother's expression greatly resembled that of a charging bear. She marched up to the bar and slammed down the bottle of rum right in front of her daughter and folded her arms.

"Care to explain this?"

"Explain what?" she asked in her most innocent voice.

She pointed an accusatory finger. "Don't think you can fool me with those eyes. Your father used to try that and he never got away with it once."

"Dad always used to say that's how he got you to marry him," she pointed out.

"Evelyn, we are not discussing _that_ man. We are discussing _this_ bottle of spirits," Mum said severely.

She dropped the innocent expression, but was unable to look her mother in the eye. She hated lying to her mother, but what other choice did she have? If her mother found out that her estranged husband was back in Port Nassau, she'd be furious, but if she discovered her children were going to help him escape from jail, then she'd murder all three of them, no questions asked.

"It's not mine," she protested. "Just because we sell rum here at the inn doesn't mean I'd ever touch the nasty brew."

"You still haven't explained why I found it on your wardrobe in plain sight."

"I was up late cleaning last night and for some reason, I was still holding it when I went into my room. I must have been distracted."

"Why didn't you return it to the bar?" she asked through narrow, skeptical eyes.

"I was so exhausted that I didn't even change into my bedclothes. I didn't feel like going all the way back to the bar just to replace one bottle of rum."

For one terrifying moment, her mother just stared at her, obviously weighing her daughter's words carefully before saying anything. She unfolded her arms and her expression didn't soften, but it relaxed some.

"Very well. See to it that you put it back."

Her mother disappeared up the stairs, no doubt to clean the rooms above for the arrival of possible guests looking for a place to stay. Evelyn breathed out, unaware that she'd been holding it while under her mother's steely glare. She hadn't believed the lie and Evelyn knew it. Lies were not something Evelyn made a habit of, but as she recalled, each and every time, it nearly _always _had to do with her father.

What exactly had happened between her parents wasn't clear. They'd been apart nearly ten years now. Before that, however, everything was drastically different. Her mother had come from a wealthy family and they shunned their daughter's choice for a husband. Piracy was the occupation of scoundrels, murderers and men of ill breeding.

Through the years they were together, she traveled with him across the sea and in fact, her brother Emerson was born aboard the pirate ship _Retribution_. Yet Evelyn was still unclear about much of their history after that. All she knew was that her father had nearly died and her mother had then left the ship never to return, two children in tow and made a home here in Nassau for her family. Jameson Dawes would come around every once in a while, but he rarely sought an audience with their mother, preferring only to see his children.

Evelyn was shaken from her solemn reverie as footsteps thundered overhead. The guests were beginning to awaken and would be expecting breakfast. She shoved the rum under the bar for safekeeping until she could retrieve it later. To her annoyance, the Kensingtons were the first to arrive. Their ghastly children would no doubt have their eggs and jam strewn all about the room by the time breakfast was over. She braced herself and hurried into the kitchen lest the brats spot her and spill their milk all over her.

Again.

Much of the day and the next day followed the same grueling routine with Evelyn glancing nervously at the bar as though she could see the bottle of rum glowing, reminding her of the deed she was beginning to dread. When no one was looking, she'd duck behind the bar and make sure the bottle was still there because she wasn't entirely convinced her mother believed her story. As for the message written by her father, she kept it in the pocket of her dress, afraid to leave it unattended in her room. Was this what it was like to be involved in piracy? All secrecy and lies? If that was the case, then her dad could leave her out of it, thank you very much.

"Psst! Evy!"

"What?" she snapped, nearing dropping the stack of clean plates she had just finished washing.

"I need to talk to you. About tomorrow…and, well, you know," whispered her brother. "Meet me out back when you get a chance."

"Is Mum out there?" She wasn't about to seen by anyone.

Emerson's head swiveled around to look back into the dining area. "No. She must still be upstairs changing the bedclothes."

"I suppose I can take a break now," she relented.

They hurried through the kitchen door and out into the yard behind where damp sheets were strung on a line, drying in the afternoon sun. It wasn't the best of hiding places, but the flapping sheets provided some cover.

"We need to go over the plan again."

"Emerson, we've gone over it twice already," Evelyn said in exasperation. "Three times won't make any difference."

She started to walk away, but he jerked her back by her arm. "No, Evy. Everything has to be perfect so we can get Dad out safely. There's no room for errors."

"Don't you think Mum is suspicious enough as it is? She's been eyeballing me ever since she found the rum in my room."

"She doesn't even know Dad is back in town or in jail. She can't possibly know," he said reassuringly.

Evelyn hugged herself as a chilly sea breeze swept upon them. "I don't like lying to her."

"She'd never let us help Dad if we told her the truth. What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

"This _is_ Dad we're helping. She loathes us even discussing him. Of course this will hurt her if she finds out."

"Look, I'm concerned about her too, but right now, we've got to help Dad. We can't just let him die."

"I know," she said, biting her lip to keep from crying. "Blast them for doing this to us."

Emerson put an arm around her shoulders in a hug. "Yeah, it is their fault, but if everything turns out fine in the end we have the power to make them feel _really_ guilty."

Evelyn didn't want to laugh, but she couldn't help but snort. "I look forward to that day."

He chucked her under the jaw. "Chin up, dear sister. We have a plan to go over."

Evanna Dawes watched her son and daughter trying to hide amongst the laundry outdoors. Something was going on and they were deliberately leaving her out. She'd heard whispering a few nights ago and footsteps on the hall floor. Both had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since then.

She'd gone over every guess at least twice, but had come to the horrible conclusion that their father must somehow be involved. Her children weren't given to subterfuge. Evelyn especially, wasn't prone to lying, but the issue with the bottle of rum proved that she wasn't being truthful. Not once had Evelyn looked her mother in the eye over the past two days.

Jameson Dawes must have come back to Port Nassau and engaged her children in something dangerous. It was most likely illegal and the unscrupulous man was about to involve her law abiding children. Children he supposedly cared about.

She huffed. "_Not _if I have anything to say about it."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Pirates Arrive

"Look! There it is!"

Emerson handed Evelyn his spyglass. As she brought it up to her eye, she saw black sails fluttering in the gusty breeze. She and her brother had searched the shores of Port Nassau for over an hour and of course, the last place they checked was where the ship anchored. This area was densely packed with trees and although there was no dock, it was well concealed. A dinghy was lowered and two figures climbed inside it and began paddling towards shore.

The moon and stars were hidden behind a blanket of black clouds as it had been raining most of the day. The result was that she and Emerson were wet, sticky and muddy. An occasional drip from the wet leaves was the only noise and to Evy, it seemed to shout, "Here we are! Take us to jail!"

"With it being so dark, they'll be hard spotted by the soldiers," Emerson pointed out.

"They'll probably just shoot us first before we get the chance to say anything."

"Not if we don't assault with guns blazing, Evy. This will work. _It has to_."

Evelyn had the feeling he was saying that more for himself than for her comfort.

"What if they don't believe us?" she asked worriedly.

"You've got the letter from Dad," he said confidently, as though this solved everything. "All we've got to do is give it to Sparrow and make sure they get him out."

She nudged him, nodding her head towards the dingy. The two pirates emerged and trudged up the sandy beach.

"Now's our chance," she barely whispered as the pirates got closer.

"Jack Sparrow!" Emerson yelled.

The pirates scattered and took cover, the sound of swords being drawn and guns being cocked nearly made Evelyn turn around and run, but her father's face kept drifting in and out of her mind.

"We're coming out! Unarmed!" she added.

Evelyn stepped into the clearing, Emerson right at her side.

"Who calls for me?" called a brusque voice.

"My name is Evelyn Dawes and this is my brother Emerson. We're the children of Jameson Dawes," she said with stout bravery, though she certainly didn't feel brave at the moment. "He was to meet you here tonight, but…there was a change of plan."

A tall figure emerged from the shadows with a slightly shorter man in tow. Her breath hitched a little when she saw the barrel of a gun pointed at her chest, but even stranger was the man holding the gun.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service, luv," he said, bowing slightly.

The tiniest of slivers broke through the clouds and the moon allowed her one brief glimpse of the famous pirate. Her eyes widened in surprise. The closer he walked, the more she doubted he knew how to, as he was using the most unusual…swagger, for lack of a better description. It looked as though whatever trinket he took a fancy to, he'd attached it to his person somehow. His mouth seemed to stumble over his words as though he'd already found his own bottle of rum.

Yet there was nothing confused in his deep brown eyes as he stared right into her own, sizing her up. First impressions were always wrong, or bizarre in Sparrow's case. The smell of rum drifted towards her nose. No doubt the bottle would come in handy after all, seeing as how his clothes were apparently drenched in it.

"You look like him," he said, switching his gaze to her brother. "Your father."

Emerson grinned. "To my mum's never-ending annoyance."

"But you don't, darling, 'cept for the eyes," Sparrow said quietly, grinning himself and displaying numerous gold teeth.

"Evy." Emerson nudged her. "Give it to him."

"Give me what?" he asked suspiciously, dark eyes darting back forth between them.

"Would you lower your weapon please?" she asked, still nervous, but managing to keep herself from shaking.

Sparrow considered them a moment longer, and then apparently decided to give his trust. He lowered his gun and waved his hand at the other pirate.

"Mr. Gibbs, lower your weapon, please."

"You think that be wise, Jack?"

"Aye, I think, but be warned, girl. 'arems could always use another lass like yourself."

"You'd sell me to a _harem_?" she asked in astonishment.

"Aye, but we wouldn't get much compensation for our trouble," he said vaguely, looking her up and down. "You're too willowy."

"You—," she began angrily, but Emerson cut in.

"Could we get to the point please?" Emerson asked pointedly.

"Right, you are," Sparrow said, all business suddenly. "As I was saying, give me what?"

"This message." Evelyn shoved the parchment at him. Sparrow stumbled backwards some from the force of her shove.

"Our father is in jail," she said curtly. "He gave this to me two days ago to give to you…oh, and this too." She brought out the rum.

Sparrow's eyes glazed for a second as he stared at the bottle. He reached for it, but she snatched it back just in time.

"Aren't you going to read the message?" she asked through narrowed eyes.

"Yes, yes," he said impatiently, "but be a good lass and give us the rum."

Evelyn took a step back. "Not until you read the message."

Sparrow cocked his head to the side, smirking at her. "I won't read your message until you give me the rum. Savvy?"

"Absolutely not," she said, stubbornly shaking her head. "First the message. Then the rum."

"Why can't you just tell me what's in the message while _giving_ me the rum? Kill two birds with one stone, eh?"

"Because I didn't read it," she snapped at him.

"Evy, just give him the rum," Emerson said in exasperation.

"I will not! Read the message, Jack Sparrow! That is of course, assuming you _can_ read."

"Funny, girl, and it's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, if you please, luv."

"You're wasting time!" Emerson said to her angrily.

Evelyn eyed them both murderously. "Fine!" She uncorked the bottle and held it out to the side. "Read the message first or the ground is the only one who gets the rum."

"You wouldn't dare," Sparrow said in shock.

"Wouldn't I?" she said nastily, tilting the bottle over.

Sparrow fingered the trigger of his gun, apparently contemplating whether or not to shoot her. Barely two drops fell before Sparrow was yelling for all of Nassau to hear.

"All right, all right! I'll read your bloody message, you little demon!"

Evelyn couldn't help the smug smile that stretched across her face. "Thank you." She put the cork back. Sparrow's eyes followed her every move as though he didn't trust her to keep the bottle full.

He unrolled the scrap of parchment and read its contents quickly. The demeanor of the pirate changed as rapidly as the wind. He approached Mr. Gibbs. They heatedly discussed, in whispers, the letter and occasionally, Sparrow would glance back at Evelyn and her brother.

Evelyn and Emerson glanced at one another. He nodded once to her as though understanding her thoughts. Together, they strode over to the pirates.

She cleared her throat. "Excuse me?"

The pirates' conversation ceased immediately and both heads turned to stare at her.

"Yes, darling, what is it?" Sparrow smiled down at her in a patronizing sort of way.

"What are you going to do about my father? He's going to be hanged tomorrow unless you and your crew do something to stop it tonight. There's also the fact that Tarrington the double crossing Navy officer, sounds like a dangerous man. He should be stopped so he doesn't hurt anyone," she said in one breath.

Sparrow leaned over her, kohl-rimmed eyes mistrustful. "Didn't you just say you 'adn't read the letter, girl?"

"I _didn't_ read the letter," she insisted again. "He told me that last night when I snuck into the jail."

"So then, what business it is of yours what my man and I discuss?"

"You happen to be discussing our father, Captain Sparrow," answered Emerson. "It _is_ our business."

"Exactly," she said in agreement. "Were anything to go wrong, our loss would be far greater than yours."

Sparrow stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "Very well, Miss Dawes. Our business is your business."

"Good," Evelyn said with relief, feeling they were finally getting somewhere. "What do we do?"

Sparrow and Gibbs laughed at what they thought was a great joke. "_We_? Miss Dawes, you will not be tailing along behind us. Springing a mate from jail is not like your little tea parties. Savvy?"

Her chest tightened in anger. For one wild second, she nearly broke the rum bottle over his head, but restrained herself with difficulty. She took a step towards him, close as she dared, nearly nose to nose and tilted her head up to look him right in the eye.

"Captain Sparrow, I don't care whether you want us to 'tail along' or not. My brother and I _will_ be going. Shoot us if you really want to stop us. Then you can explain to our father and mother why you murdered their only children…_savvy_?"

Sparrow said nothing, but then suddenly grinned. "You 'ave a lovely mouth, Miss Dawes. Pity it's never closed long enough for a man to kiss it."

Evanna Dawes had the left the inn the minute her children disappeared into the night with every intent to see what they were up to. She expected to find them with their father, but was even more shocked when she saw Captain Jack Sparrow instead. It had been years since she'd seen the pilfering scum.

She didn't hear everything because she was hiding a fair distance away, but surmised that Jameson was in jail again and had enlisted his innocent children in helping him to escape, as well as condemning them to eternal imprisonment by involving them with Jack Sparrow.

"Curse the day I married into piracy," she whispered to herself as her children left with Sparrow and the other pirates.

They were headed for town, no doubt the jail. Evanna rose from her hiding place and continued her pursuit, desperate to save her children.

"What about the rum, darling?" inquired Sparrow as they walked. He snapped his fingers at her expectantly.

She batted his hand away. "You get your bloody rum when my father is free."

"'old on, missy! That was never part of the agreement. You said I could 'ave the rum if I read your letter," he said agitatedly. "And I read your letter."

"I said you could have the rum, but I didn't say when did I?" she explained matter-of-factly.

Sparrow glared evilly. She glared right back. "You just earned yourself a place in a 'arem, missy. I 'appen to know of a nice one that only beats their women every other day."

"Sister dear," whispered Emerson into her ear. "Seeing as the captain is our only ally, do you really think you should be so rude to him?"

"Yes!" she whispered with vehemence. "I'm not an insipid child that he can push around just because he's a pirate."

Emerson chuckled softly. "You know, I think _you'd_ make a better pirate than me."

"That's not funny. My aspirations are above taking advantage of the innocent," she said, throwing a sidelong glance at Sparrow, who had moved away from her.

The jail was just ahead. Sparrow signaled for them to stop, then motioned for them to put their heads together. "This should be easy now that we've got the expert liar here," he said looking at Evelyn.

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

"You, Miss Dawes and your dear brother will see to it that the Royal officers are sufficiently distracted, allowing me enough time to slip inside and spring our mate free."

"How on earth am I supposed to do that?" she asked in shock.

"Like I said, luv, lying seems to be your talent. I'm sure your pretty little 'ead can think of something."

Minutes later Evelyn and Emerson approached the jail. "I can't believe I'm going to do this."

"Well, it should be easy enough to convince them since we are his children."

The Royal Officer sharpened his stance as they approached and sidestepped in front of the entrance, barring their passage. "It's late to be paying a visit, you two."

"Yes, sir, of course. Please forgive us, but my sister here…" Emerson nodded towards Evelyn who immediately covered her face in her hands and began to cry, or least, pretend to.

"Father…" she said, anguished.

"Our father is to be hanged come morning. Please, sir, may we share some last moments with him to pray for his condemned soul?"

The officer looked uncertain, glancing over his shoulder at the entrance to the jail. He turned back to them. "I'm sorry, young sir, but I've strict orders not to let anyone in past dark."

Evelyn began to sob even harder and raised her wet eyes to the officer. "Please, sir. This will be the last time we can see him because I could not bear to witness his ex…his e-execution."

This cemented the ploy. "Very well, miss," he said gently. "But no more than ten minutes. That's all I can offer."

Evelyn gasped and threw her arms around the man who gave a frightened squeak. She turned him away from the entrance. It was enough to allow Sparrow to sneak quietly inside. His boots never made a sound on the dirt. "Oh, bless you sir! You will surely be honored for such genteel compassion." She took his hand and clutched it to her heart.

The officer looked pleased with himself. "All right, get on with you. And you can make it fifteen minutes."

Emerson shook his hand. "Thank you, kindly, my good man. There was never a better solider in the Royal Navy."

Once inside, Emerson could barely stifle his laughter. "Dad will be so proud of your performance when I tell him."

"I feel awful. That poor man," she whispered, wiping away her faux tears. "But the added five minutes should give Sparrow plenty of time if he doesn't bungle everything up."

Sure enough, the pirate was busy at work on the cell door when she and her brother arrived.

"Evy, my angel! Emerson, good lad. You've both done it!" cried Jameson joyfully.

"How much time did you get us?" asked Sparrow as he extracted a knife from his boot and inserted it into the lock along with another long object and wiggled it about.

"Fifteen minutes," Emerson answered proudly. "Evy here nearly had the man crying with her."

"Ah, like father like daughter, eh?" he said appreciatively. He turned to Sparrow. "Thanks, Jack. I don't know how I can repay you."

"'ow about with your share of the treasure, mate?"

"Well, I don't know about going that far," he said, as Jack muttered a curse. The knife broke off in the lock.

"That was me favorite knife," he said despairingly.

"Oh, try this instead." Evelyn yanked out a pin from her hair.

Sparrow grabbed it without so much as a thanks, still whining about his knife.

"We've been through a lot together. I killed me first man with that knife."

Evelyn stared at him, appalled. "I can only imagine how terrible a loss that must be," she said sarcastically.

"The bloke 'ad a knife of his own, luv. It was self-defense."

"Yes, I'm sure it was," she said, grimacing.

"Uh, Jack?" Emerson asked. "Why don't you just use the keys?"

He rolled his eyes. "Brilliant idea, Mr. Dawes. I don't know why I didn't think of that first."

"The keys left with the captain of the guards when the shift changed, Emerson," informed their father. "They're not about to leave it with lesser ranking men overnight."

"Our time's nearly up," Evelyn warned them.

"Almost got it," Sparrow said.

"Jack, where's Gibbs?" Emerson asked.

"Outside keeping watch. 'e's to fire a shot to warn us if anyone's coming." Suddenly, the cell door sprang open. "Still got it," Sparrow said, appreciatively eying his greasy hands.

Jameson Dawes enveloped both his children and whispered his thanks. He kissed Evelyn on the forehead. "Did your mother find out?"

"We don't think so, but she's suspicious nonetheless," she said.

"Hopefully I'll be gone by the time she does find out."

Evelyn and Emerson glanced at each other in disappointment. They had expected that Dad would be gone as soon as he came back. It was the usual routine after all.

"I 'ate to break up this lovely family moment, but we must leave," Sparrow informed them.

Just then, an alarm bell sounded. Each distinctly heard shouts from outside.

"PIRATES BE HERE!"

"Terrific," muttered Evelyn, just as a shot echoed across the stone walls.

"That'll be Gibbs." Sparrow took the lead, hurrying past the yells of the prisoners, marching right up to the entrance guard, who turned one second too late. He aimed a punch at the guard's head, dropping him like a sack of grain.

There was nothing for it. They would be caught. At least twenty or more British soldiers approached at a run. The _Pearl_ must have been spotted for another group of soldiers broke off from the main, heading for the shore.

"Uh, Jack," Jameson began.

"Split up!" he cried.

They needed no further instruction. One group went to the left, the other to the right. Evelyn ran hard, disappearing into the thicket of trees. She turned around looking for her father and brother, but to her dismay, they were not there. Just as she started to panic, gunshots blasted apart the bark of the trees. A hand closed over her mouth and pulled her down to the ground just as she'd been about to scream.

"You trying to get yourself killed, girl?" hissed Sparrow. "Do us a favor and keep your mouth shut."

Not but a second later, five soldiers burst threw the trees, bayonets clearing the path for them. Evelyn and Sparrow ducked further down, barely breathing. One soldier stopped as his four comrades carried on. He pivoted about, eying the foliage around him. Evelyn ducked down as the bayonet swept over their heads. Sparrow squeezed her hand, as though to make sure she kept absolutely still.

Something had spooked the guard because he wouldn't move from his spot. It was as though he knew they were there, but couldn't see them. They were running out of time. Surely his comrades would return to see why he'd stopped and then they'd be caught.

Without thinking or understanding why she did it, her fingers closed over a rock by her feet. She lobbed into the air over the guard's head. It landed with a crack up ahead. The guard jerked in the direction of the sound, giving Sparrow just what he needed.

He lunged at the guard and knocked him to the ground. They fell into a cluster of bushes. There was a scuffle, a grunt of pain, and then…silence. Evelyn stood up slowly and stared into the darkness. There were no approaching footsteps so she hurried forward to where Sparrow had disappeared.

To her shock, he was digging through the soldier's pockets as he lay on the ground.

"Jack Sparrow!"

"Keep your voice down, you little strumpet. And it's _Captain_, Captain Jack Sparrow."

He pulled out a pouch, gave it a shake, and smiled in satisfaction at the jingling coins within, pocketing it quickly.

"He's not dead is he?"

"Of course not. I'm not stupid, you know. Don't answer that!" he said suddenly, as though reading her mind. She'd just been about to argue that remark.

He stood up to leave. "Where's me 'at?" Sparrow dropped to all fours to search for his hat.

"You can't just steal his money," Evelyn argued.

"'e's unconscious, luv. It's not like 'e was using it."

"What if his family is starving?"

"Well, it's your fault that they'll miss their supper, luv. I knocked 'im out because _you_ distracted him."

Evy stared at him in dismay. It _was_ her fault. Suddenly, she felt about as treacherous as the pirate crawling around on the ground in front of her.

"Don't worry, luv. I'm sure payday's just round the corner. Aha!" he cried in triumph, finding the scuffed tri-corner hat and plunking it onto his head. He grabbed her hand. "Now come on."

He started to pull her, but she ground her feet into the muddy ground. "You're going the wrong way."

"And I suppose you know the right one?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I know a short cut."

Evelyn stomped past him to take the lead. In less than five minutes, she'd led him to the edge of a small cliff with about a twenty-foot sloping drop. After all the rain, it was covered in gooey mud. Up ahead was the _Black Pearl_. With a grin of relief, she saw her father and brother heading for the dinghy.

"This is your short cut?" he asked, eying the edge of the cliff with hesitation.

She smirked. "Not afraid of heights are you, Captain?"

"Course not!" he said quickly. "But 'ow do we get down, darling? You got wings underneath that shirt?"

"No, you dolt. Can't you see the vines?" She pointed to a cluster of thick, jungle-looking vines. "We can lower ourselves down that way."

"All right. Ladies first."

"Give me your hand," she said, sticking hers out. "I need something to brace myself on."

He complied and she grabbed it. She stretched out over the cliff towards the vines, managing to secure one on her first try.

"You seem to know what you're doing, Miss Dawes."

"Emerson and I used to play here when we were children. Now pull me back."

It was too good to be true. A bullet whizzed by and took a hunk of tree with it. Sparrow lost his balance while trying to duck and fell over the side of the cliff, pulling Evelyn with him. They slid, face first, all twenty, muddy feet and came to a stop.

Sparrow got to his feet, groaning and wiping the mud off his face. Evelyn did the same, but whimpered in pain when she put her weight on her ankle.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she lied, trying and failing to walk. She grabbed onto Sparrow as she fell.

"Now's not the time for sport, luv, though, I must admit, mud suits you." He winked roguishly at her.

She shoved him off, regretting it immediately as she fell back down into the mud. With tremendous effort, she pulled herself with what was left of her dignity and limped forward, biting her lip against the pain. Suddenly, however, she was lifted off the ground as Sparrow gathered her up in his arms and hurried toward the dinghy as fast as he could.

"Can't 'ave you slowing me down."

"It wasn't my fault that we fell," she argued.

"The cliff was your idea in the first place," he shot back. "And for a girl so thin, you weight a lot," he huffed. "Jim!"

"Evy! Jack!" cried Jameson. "Thank God! I thought we'd lost you both."

Sparrow rudely dumped Evelyn onto the sand.

"Ow!" she cried, glaring daggers at him. Her dad reached down to help her to her feet. She put her arm around his waist to help steady herself.

"Jim, mate, we 'ave to get out of 'ere. The soldiers aren't far behind."

"Sweetheart, I don't think you or your brother can stay behind," he said, throwing Sparrow a furtive glance.

"What?" cried Evelyn. "I'm not getting on that ship!"

"If you stay here, the soldiers will arrest you and your brother. I'm not going to let that happen."

"Evy, I think he's right," said Emerson, who didn't seem upset at all by this news.

"But we can't just leave! What about Mum?"

"She'll be fine. She knew nothing about this," he coaxed.

"I don't mean to rush your debate, but…" Sparrow let his words hang in warning.

"Look, we'll think of something later," said Jameson, shunting her on board the dinghy.

Emerson climbed in followed by Gibbs. Sparrow and her father took hold of the dinghy and pushed it out into the water. Sparrow climbed in and just as her father was about to do so, they heard a cry.

"Stop!"

Evelyn turned to see her mother emerging from the greenery behind. "Mum?!"

"Evanna!?" cried Jameson in shock, eyes big as saucers.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" she screeched, stopping at water's edge. She was not looking at her children, but at her husband. "You've gotten them to break you out of jail. Do you have any idea what you've just done to their future?"

"Evanna, this is not the time to argue!" he shouted back.

The sound of heavy boots came crashing through the trees. Sparrow was rowing hard. The dinghy was halfway to the ship by now. Evy and Emerson watched in fear as the soldiers neared their parents. Dad stood looking undecided about what to do.

"Well?" yelled their mum impatiently. "What are you going to do?"

Evanna screamed as he suddenly threw her over his shoulder. Evelyn watched in shock as her dad ran into the water with their mother bouncing around on his shoulder. She continued to yell and beat on Dad's back all the way until he tossed her into the water.

"Jimmy!" shrieked Evanna in a voice most unlike her own. "You know I can't swim!"

He put his arm around her and paddled toward the _Pearl_. Shots struck the water all around them. Evelyn nearly leapt from the boat herself to help her mother, but Emerson pulled her back.

"Dad's got her. She'll be all right."

Once the dinghy reached the _Pearl_, they took turns climbing up the rope ladder that had been dropped for them. Evelyn winced with each step up, but gritted her teeth and kept going. Sparrow stood in the middle of his deck, shouting orders in a surprisingly authoritative tone. The pirates rushed about, hoisting anchors and Evy lurched, grabbing on the rail as the ship began to move. She anxiously glanced over the side. Her mother and father were climbing the rope as the pirates heaved the dinghy up.

The _Black Pearl_ left the Port of Nassau, bullets flying and taking chunks out of the wood, Sparrow yelling to his crew to hurry lest his precious ship be damaged further.

The last two passengers fell over the side onto the deck. Dad stood up and helped Mum to her feet, but she shoved him off, wet clothing leaving a puddle as she stormed over to her children.

"I can't believe the two of you! My own children subjecting themselves to criminal behavior…and you!" She jabbed Jameson in the chest. "How dare you ask—even consider endangering your own children."

"Hold on—," he started in protest.

"Mum, they were going to hang him tomorrow!" Emerson said angrily.

"Oh? Piracy finally caught up with you, eh?" she asked, as though the death of her husband meant little.

Sparrow sashayed over. "They were not part of our agreement, Jim so I'll definitely be taking your share of the treasure as payment for their passage."

"Jack, they would have tarred and feathered my children if we'd left them behind. What I was supposed to do?"

"Wave good-bye?" he asked indifferently.

"You!" spat Evanna acerbically. "Of all the no-good, absolutely disgusting people. Jack Sparrow, you'll pay for this!"

"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow, darling. This was not my doing. You have your bloody husband and children to thank for this mess. Now I've got more passengers than I wanted, and no rum, I might add," he said, throwing Evelyn a nasty look.

"Well, Jack, you'll just have to take us back to Nassau."

"You can't go back to Nassau, Evanna," said Jameson, displaying very little patience. "I don't know if you'll ever be able to go back now."

"You can't mean that we're stuck here?" Emerson asked in disbelief, though with a smile.

"You'll be safer with us," he said reasonably.

"Safer? With pirates?" Evanna chuckled. "I'd rather be on a deserted island with cannibalistic pygmies than on a ship with pirates."

"Don't tempt me, my dear," he said through gritted teeth.

"I'm not your dear, you dense braggart! In case you've forgotten, I haven't been your dear in ten years and I'm not about to start now!"

"STOP! Stop yelling!" Evelyn cried, near tears. "For once, would you both shut up!"

Evelyn limped her way past them, hoping to find a place on the ship her parents wouldn't be, but stopped suddenly, having remembered something.

"As promised," she said shakily, fighting back tears and shoving the rum into Captain Sparrow's hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: On Board the Pirate Ship

Jack lovingly stroked the wheel as he turned it with ease. The chipped and weatherworn wood creaked and groaned. Having it within his hands never ceased to relax him after a particularly trying day. Today had been one of those days. The promise of treasure and running from soldiers always brought about interesting situations.

This Tarrington bloke now had the map and they were going to chase him down. Just a typical day in the life of a pirate. Tarrington couldn't be any nastier than any other of the colorful characters he'd met through all his years of pillaging and looting. Getting the map back would be a cinch, but only if his three new passengers didn't get in the way.

Speaking of which, Jameson Dawes was prowling about the ship, tightening loose ropes and glaring at anyone who got in his way. Much to the relief of all ears aboard the ship, Jim and Evanna had stopped fighting and split apart, one above deck, the other below.

"Jack," he greeted with a stiff nod.

" 'Lo, mate," he said cautiously, hoping to avoid an angry outburst.

Jim wasn't in the mood for conversation obviously. He'd just spotted his children, though they hadn't seen him. They were leaning against the stern with their backs to them. He walked up to Jack and whispered into his ear.

"When you get a chance, we need to talk 'bout the map."

He hurried off lest his children hear him and climbed his way to the top of the crow's nest. It had always been his favorite place no matter the ship.

Many long years had he known Jim and though it had been some time since he'd seen Evanna, he still remembered her red tresses. He thought perhaps her lineage might be Irish considering the rages she often flew into. Red as her hair was, he thought she rather looked like her head was always flaming. Good thing she was short, otherwise, the sails would catch fire. Needless to say, Jack wasn't thrilled she had suddenly invaded the _Pearl_.

He couldn't exactly remember why she'd left Jim and taken the children. Word got round among the more raucous pirate circles that Jim had been gravely injured at the time and that Evanna had suddenly turned landlubber.

Women. Noisy, infuriating little things. He swallowed his mouthful of rum and glanced behind him. Jim's daughter had decided to take up residence at the stern for the rest of the night, brother Emerson next to her. They were whispering quietly. Though he'd never admit it, Jack was curious about their conversation. Rather than keep wondering what they talking about, he turned his thoughts to the girl.

Miss Dawes was a dreadful sight. The mud that covered her from head to boots had dried. Chunks fell from her clothing at random as she moved, leaving his deck in a mess. He then noticed there was also a growing pile of dried mud around his own boots. If it weren't for her, they wouldn't be covered in mud in the first place and his deck wouldn't be filthy. Just because he'd lost his balance on the cliff didn't mean the mud was his fault. He'd be making her clean it all up come morning.

He glanced curiously over his shoulder again to see what Miss Dawes was up to. Jack grimaced. She was brushing away tears. He hated to see a woman cry. It was the absolute worst torture for any man to go through. Obviously they did it on purpose just to drive a man mad. What was there to cry about anyway? She'd gotten out alive, thanks to _him_, and was now aboard the greatest pirate vessel to sail the ocean. She should be bloody grateful that he hadn't left her behind to take her father's place in jail.

He took another drink and hugged the bottle of rum in a possessive way. Well, with any luck, he'd be able to dump them off at the next landfall and go after the treasure without anymore inference.

Long after her brother left, Miss Dawes was still awake and still staring towards the direction of Nassau. Shivers shook her body and she wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing vigorously. Jack didn't know why exactly he was doing this, but he set the rum down on the deck and made his way over to Miss Dawes.

She'd been standing at the stern for some time, alone, allowing the wind to dry her cheeks, looking back towards the only home she'd ever known and quite possibly would never see again. The _Pearl_ crewmembers who occasionally approached to do some task or other often threw her furtive glances and each averted their eyes as though afraid of her. Crying females were probably not a welcome sight for any man aboard a pirate ship.

As she breathed deeply of the salty air, she recalled that too many times she'd shed tears on account of a fight between her parents. Maybe after ten years there were still too many reasons for them to hate each rather than make peace.

Sparrow stood at his wheel and was ignoring her, thankfully. She couldn't handle another argument at the moment. With a look of disgust, she turned her face away as he tilted the rum up and emptied half of the bottle in one go.

"You okay?"

She smiled when she heard Emerson's voice. "Oh, not at the moment, but the sun will be up in a few hours. Maybe today will be better." She glanced over her shoulder. "Where did they go?"

"Mum went below deck to find a cabin and Dad's in the crow's nest at the moment."

Evelyn tilted her head up to see her father standing on the ship's highest point. He held onto the mast with one hand while the other rested on the hilt of his sword. The man was an intimidating sight, tall and lean as he was, dangerously armed. Course, she'd seen his broad smile and remembered the warmth of his hugs. It was too bad Mum didn't remember too.

"Can you believe those two idiots?" said Emerson. "We almost die and they can only fight about whose fault it is."

"Emerson, was Dad right? Can we never return to Nassau?" Evelyn chose to change the subject rather than discuss her parents.

He sighed heavily and leaned on the rail of the ship for support. "I don't know, Evy. I hope it hasn't come to that, but strictly speaking, we are fugitives now. We aided and abetted a pirate to escape from jail in the company of the most famous pirate of them all."

"Luckily, no one was killed," she said, thinking that the Kensington brats would have no one to spill their milk on in the morning. She laughed.

"What?" he asked, smiling.

"I was just thinking about those freckle-faced brats at the inn. Come morning, they won't have me to douse with food."

His eyes lit up. "You're right. That's definitely a bright side, I'd say, eh?"

"I suppose so."

"Maybe we should turn in," he said, yawning. "It's late."

"I'm not tired. I think I'll just stay here a while longer."

"Suit yourself." He squeezed her shoulder. "When you do fall asleep…sweet dreams."

"Thanks. You too, Em."

For the remainder of the night, no one bothered her as she simply stood and stared, choosing not to think about what they'd left behind. There was a missing treasure map to be reclaimed and they were heading straight for the man who'd stolen it. Life as Evelyn had known it had drastically altered without her consent. To think that she had no control over anything now was disconcerting.

The control now belonged to the pirate at the helm who was nursing his bottle of rum. Though the night was dark, the sky was clear and the moon lit upon the face that was now staring at her. His dark eyes stared searchingly at her face, expression in them unreadable. She quickly looked back to the sea and shivered uncomfortably. But then she started suddenly as something heavy dropped onto her shoulders.

Sparrow stood there, having taken off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. "Nights can be cold out here. Best you keep warm, luv."

Before she could thank him, he returned to his wheel, eyes on the horizon. She stared at him in surprise, saying nothing and pulled the coat closer together. It was still warm. Jack Sparrow was turning out to be not quite what she expected. Such a benevolent act of giving up his coat to a freezing woman contrasted to the bawdy behavior he'd so far displayed. Enigmatic suited him best at the moment. She continued to watch him only briefly before returning her attention to the horizon as well.

Emerson didn't sleep much, though it wasn't for lack of trying. He eventually gave up and wandered out on deck. Sparrow was still at the wheel. Evy, despite her refusal to sleep, looked as if she'd settled down on the deck with a coat draped over her for cover. Jameson Dawes appeared at Sparrow's side, they spoke briefly.

After a few words, his dad left Jack and stopped suddenly as he spotted his son. With a look of shame, he approached.

"What happened earlier, Emerson, with your mum, I'm sorry," he said, eyes downcast.

"Evy cried you know," he said severely, not yet ready to forgive his dad.

His face drooped. "I know," he whispered painfully.

"I don't want to see her crying because of you two ever again," he said darkly, shocked with himself for speaking so candidly to his father this way, but…it had to be said.

"You're right, son," he said gravely. "It seems there are things I've forgotten. That I have a family is one of them."

"Good. That's settled then," he said with a firm nod. "As for Mum…"

"Here we go," he said with a big sigh.

"Would you please keep your temper with her? I don't care how angry you are. Just walk away."

His dad looked ready to argue again, but shut his mouth, apparently having thought better of it, and said something else instead. "Is this what you're planning to tell her?"

Emerson grinned. "I'm not saying one word to Mum. You are."

Jameson's eyes bulged. "Me?" he spluttered.

"Yes, you. Even though the _Black Pearl_ is the mammoth of pirate ships, it can get very small if everyone is trying to avoid each other. You need to make it as pleasurable a time as you can, especially for Evy."

He regarded his son for a moment in open astonishment, then laughed and shook his head. "When did you grow into a man?"

"While you were robbing the innocent on the high seas."

"I'm sorry I missed it, Emerson," he said regrettably, laughter having ended.

"Well, it looks like we're stuck with each other for a while." He looked down at his feet, suddenly embarrassed. "Maybe we could…get to know each other. Again."

"I'd like that, son."

The heavy weight that had settled in his chest lessened suddenly. Emerson had been waiting years to say these things to his father. The fact that he'd been able to do it without the aid of his fists—something he'd fantasized about for a while—made him feel like he had accomplished twice as much.

Evy could barely move. She'd been sleeping all night against the hard wood of the ship with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes popped open to a barely risen sun. The ship was already bursting with activity. Though she knew she needed to get up, she was too warm under the coat covering her neck to feet. A coat that smelled like rum.

_Rum?!_

She stood up quickly and stumbled as the ship crashed against the waves, but managed to steady herself. In the arms of said coat's owner.

"Not found your sea legs yet, eh?"

"It's been a while," she said, strained. "I haven't been on a ship in quite some time."

"You'll get used to it soon enough. Just don't vomit all over my deck."

"I'll keep that in mind, Captain Sparrow," she said dryly.

"Call me Jack, darling, though Captain Sparrow does sound rather dashing, don't you think?"

"No, I don't, now will you please remove your arms?"

Sparrow had been holding her since she stumbled and with some difficulty, managed to extract herself. He stared down at her with a smirk.

"What?" she snapped.

"Sleep well, luv?"

"As well as can be expected under the circumstances," she said stiffly.

"Well, might I suggest you occupy a bunk instead of the deck? Not that I'm complaining. The sound of your gentle snoring is quite calming."

"My snor--? I do not snore!" she said indignantly.

"I beg to differ, Miss Dawes," he said knowingly. "Though I promise not to divulge this to anyone. It'll be our little secret." He winked exaggeratedly.

She pursed her lips and threw his coat at him. "Thank you for allowing me to borrow it."

"My clothing is always available to you, Miss Dawes!" he called as she stalked off.

"Bloody pirate," she muttered.

Even though she had no idea where the galley was located, she went looking for it anyway. Perhaps they could use her help.

The aroma of food was suddenly noticeable as she stopped by an unmarked door. She opened it and timidly stepped through. As the ship rocked backwards and forwards, haphazardly stacked pots and utensils tumbled over and even knocked over a cooking pot. A loud curse came from somewhere behind the pot.

"Hello?" she called tentatively. No answer. "HELLO!"

Still nothing. She crept further inside, picking up a large pot and ladle along the way. "Is anyone here?"

Whoever uttered the foul language from before suddenly jumped out from behind her brandishing a meat cleaver. "Gotcha! Ha!"

She shrieked and dropped her armful of cookware. Pure white eyebrows disappeared under a grizzled mane of the same color when he saw who the intruder was. He stood about a head shorter than her, but that did not diminish his threatening appearance in the least. With skin as dry and course as the sand, he looked to be near one hundred years old. He menacingly bared his teeth, all five of them.

"Who ye be, girlie?" The pirate's voice was so raspy it was amazing he could still talk. He took one step closer with a loud clunk, peg leg breaking her silence.

"Evelyn Dawes," she whispered fearfully.

"Eh? What's tha'?"

"Evelyn Dawes," she repeated louder.

"Speak up, ya scrawny goose!"

"EVELYN DAWES!!" she yelled.

"'oly Christmas, child! Ya don' 'ave ta shout! I can 'ear ye fine!"

"Somehow I doubt that," she said in a normal tone.

"Huh?" he asked turning his ear toward her.

"Never mind!" she said.

Spotty gray eyes looked her over. "Aye, ye be Jim Dawes's girl."

She nodded, tired of speaking. Her throat was scratchy.

"Another mouth ta feed!" he cried indignantly, stamping his peg leg. "Look 'ere, missie, I'll not 'ave ye a' comin' down 'ere with no special food orders like lightly browned toast an' whatnot."

She rolled her eyes. "That's not what I'm doing down here!"

"Then what ye want?"

"To help you!"

"Eh?"

"TO HELP YOU!" she screamed.

"Why would I need 'elp from the likes of an English princess, eh?"

Evelyn growled in frustration. "Are all pirates this maddening?"

"Eh?"

"I'm going to help you cook for the crew!" she boomed, coming straight to the point.

"Why?" he barked.

"Because I want to you insufferable man!"

"Why would any proper lady wanna do somefin' like tha', eh?"

"To pull my weight on this ship!"

"Tha's a big job, lass, feedin' the crew of a ship."

"I'm used to it."

"Are ye now? Got any 'sperience?"

"My family owns a boarding house in Nassau. I cooked breakfast, lunch and dinner there everyday."

He eyed her with interest suddenly. "Crack o' dawn every mornin', ye 'ave ta be 'ere."

"I'm an early riser by nature."

"'ow do I know ye won' get bored an' quit on me?"

"Well, you'll just have to take my word for it…Mr.…"

"Percival Bucket, at ye service, girl. 'Round 'ere though, I'm called Peggy."

She opened her mouth, but then shut it. Peggy? He sensed her confusion and explained by slapping his missing limb that was attached to the peg leg.

"Sharks. Two of 'em," he said proudly, as though he'd won some battle. "Scavengin' a sunken ship I was. A'fore I knows it, two sharks come chargin' an' chomp off me leg."

Evelyn grimaced at the wonderful images he'd just conjured up. To her dismay, that wasn't the end of the story.

"They thought they'd won themselves a nice, fleshy treat, but I 'ad me spear an' I run one through. E'en though th' other got away with me leg, I managed to 'quire a memento." He pointed to the leather strap around his neck, which displayed five large shark's teeth. "They'd broken off in me leg an'—"

"All right, all right!" she interrupted hastily. "I congratulate you in your miraculous escape…Peggy." Though she'd been hungry when she came down here, his colorful tale had seen fit to put a stop to her growling stomach.

"Wha's ye name agin?"

"Just call me…well, Evy, I suppose to make things simple." And as an afterthought, "Perhaps you can even have a day off now and again."

His cloudy gray eyes glinted. "Tha' so?" He clapped his gnarled hands together. "Yer 'ired on a temp'ry basis. Ye get yer firs' review in one week. If'n I'm happy with yer work, then Cap'n will be happy with yer work. Ye can start by cleanin' this mess up…Evy."

She eyed the food-strewn floor with disgust, but didn't back down and soon had not only the floor scrubbed clean, but had finished with breakfast by the time the crew arrived.

"What are you doing back there?" asked her father in surprise when he appeared with a plate.

"Pulling my weight," she replied, dishing out his portion. "I'm not just going to sit around and do nothing. I need to keep myself occupied or I may jump ship and head back to Nassau with naught but my broken pride."

He threw his head back and laughed. "That's my girl."

"Get on with you. There's others waiting," she scolded, but couldn't keep herself from smiling, pleased with his praise.

To her annoyance, ship's captain showed up sooner than she expected. His eyes widened in surprise to see her, but only for a second. She suddenly felt all thumbs as he watched her every move and nearly made a mess all over the floor again. Why was she so nervous all of the sudden?

Plate in hand, he gave her an appraising sort of look. She stared haughtily back as though daring him to find fault. The tiniest of grins revealed his gleaming gold teeth. He nodded once to her and left to find a seat. To her dismay, it was a seat facing her. Every now and then, he'd glance over and she pretended not to notice.

She let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. The Captain's silent observance felt like acceptance and suddenly, the days ahead didn't seem quite as daunting now that she had a duty.

38


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: One Pirate Too Many

Alexander Tarrington, retired British Navy officer stood above deck, eying his recently acquired map. It was small, barely larger than his palm. In minute detail, the map had been drawn in black ink, which had smudged some through the years and the leather upon which it was etched was deteriorating along the edges. Thankfully, the map of the island had remained intact.

He had been many places in his life as a naval officer, and it just so happened that he recognized this little island. There wasn't much to the island as it had never been settled. For good reason too. It was in an isolated stretch of the Atlantic Ocean hundreds of miles off the coast of the North American continent. Ships tended to disappear within the waters that surrounded the island. Strange vortexes had been reported to appear in the middle of the water just as a ship approached. Sailors who made it back alive had gone mad.

Load of rubbish. Tarrington was an unusual breed of sailor. He cared not for the stories of superstitions surrounding the ocean—mammoth sea creatures and cursed waters being among the favorites. He'd never seen any proof that such atrocities existed to claim ships and their crew. These stories existed only for returning sailors to entertain their families after a long voyage at sea. Little else happened but for the occasional storm and that was hardly exciting enough to tell one's family about. The stories about the missing ships and the forgotten crews had passed from one generation to the next, growing with fervor and became even more fantastical with each retelling.

He'd been retired for nearly a year now, and it was not by his choice. The British commodore had deemed him too old to be of any use. Retired life did not suit a man who was not yet ready for it. So he'd been floundering about, gaining weight and becoming more disagreeable as time passed.

Many grand adventures he'd had during his days of service and he was keen to have another one. It came as a surprise that a treasure map, often considered to be a flight of fancy, had attracted him so. But the treasure hoards of pirates were very real, just as real as the pirates themselves and he was going to find _this_ hoard, cursed ocean or not.

"Tarrington!" called the captain.

"Yes, Strongman, what is it?" he asked in a bored tone.

Strongman just so happened to be a pirate himself. Bit of an idiot too. He stayed below deck in his cabin most of the time due to seasickness. The rest of his crew was just as dumb and as greedy. Tarrington had promised ten percent of the plunder, though he had no intention of handing any of it over. The captain, however, had thought it a splendid arrangement.

"Me mates an' I were talkin' about this little island o' yers."

"What about it?"

"It lies in cursed waters. We're not goin' way out there!"

"Come now, Strongman. Show some backbone. You don't really believe in those cock and bull superstitions, do you?"

"Aye that I do, mate," he said, sticking his hairy chin out stubbornly.

"Have you ever seen a giant sea creature?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Or these so-called whirlpools that form out of nothing in the ocean?"

"Not yet, but that doesn't mean—"

"Then what are you afraid of, my good man?"

"Look here, Tarrington. Just because I ain't seen 'em don't mean they don't exist."

"Aren't you forgetting your ten percent of the plunder?" he reminded quietly. "If you were to turn around now, then any chance you have of besting Jack Sparrow for ocean infamy is lost."

"Jack Sparrow!" he spat. "He's nothin' compared ta me! Nothin'!"

His fat little cheeks quivered with rage and Tarrington smiled, having won this round. "Of course not, old boy. Let's push on then, shall we? The closer we get to the treasure, the sooner you'll be to making a laughingstock of Sparrow."

Breakfast was long since over, but Evy was still scrubbing. She'd been at it for so long, that her palms were raw, her feet were numb and every scrub was harder than the previous one. The galleywasn't just dirty. It was covered in muck and grime and other substances she had yet to identify.

Tenacity, however, was something she could possess to the point of obsession, and that was why the cookware gleamed like new. She'd rid all counters and cupboards of the grit that had permeated every surface. The bizarre smell that had been making her nauseous had at last disintegrated.

During all this, Evy came to the conclusion that men were disgusting, but pirates were downright revolting. It looked as though none of them cared that they ate out of a bowl that had crusty old food bits dried all round its interior. 'Twas only the grace of God that had allowed them all to not die of food poisoning or some other beastly disease.

Peggy had left her to it and was now stretched out on the floor, peg leg propped up against a table and snoring to his heart's content. _Snoring_. Evy tutted. She did not snore. Only men were capable of such distasteful noise, as evidenced by the old codger currently passed out on the floor. Jack Sparrow was only provoking her temper, which to Evy's chagrin, he was very good at. Something about the man made her want to scream at the top of her lungs and deck him for good measure.

To her increasing embarrassment, she couldn't forget the way he'd observed her all during breakfast. He'd seemed to find no insult to give or leering gesture to bestow. For the remainder of the morning meal, she'd kept her back to his table for as long as she could. Every so often, however, the hairs on the back of her neck would stand and she would shiver, feeling his eyes on her again. She'd ducked down out of sight when she noticed him stand from the table to make his way back to the main deck. Even though there was no longer a stubborn stain on the floor she'd pretended that there was just to keep from making eye contact with him. The thud of his boots had stopped just above her, the sound of a plate being returned echoed quietly. But she stubbornly kept her face turned to the floor. He must have been standing there watching her work. If she kept scrubbing, she'd wear a hole in the wood. Why didn't he just go?

Just as she was about to scream with frustration, his footsteps receded. She'd peeked around the corner to make sure he was definitely leaving, but he turned sharply and caught her eye as though knowing she'd been faking all along and had been waiting to call her on it. He threw an infuriating wink at her, waved bye and glided out the door with a big smirk.

Evy scrubbed harder, imagining his face as she scoured away the grungy stains.

"Evelyn, what are you doing in here?"

She started so badly that she dropped the bowl and it landed with a resounding clunk on the floor. Peggy snorted loudly, coughed and hacked, but went back to sleep.

"Mum, you frightened me!" she accused, hand over her heart.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, dear." She came further into the room and stopped abruptly when she noticed Peggy. "Is he…he's not d-dead is he?"

"Oh no," she said, bending to retrieve the bowl. "Peggy's just sleeping. The floor is good for his back, so he says."

"Peggy?" she queried, brow furrowing.

"Long story," explained Evy. "You should have him tell it to you some time."

Her mum still threw the man a disapproving glance and edged away from him to join Evy behind the counter. "What are you doing?" she asked again, eying the counters and Evy's very dirty clothing. It was still covered in mud, but most of it had crumbled away into dusty smears.

"Cleaning of course."

"Did your father offer your services as Sparrow's slave?" she said acidly.

Evy refrained, with difficulty, from rolling her eyes. "No, I approached Peggy over there and begged for a job. Seeing as our livelihood was very similar to this, I figured I could offer something conducive to the crew…clean dishes foremost."

"Why?"

Evy scrubbed harder to keep herself from snapping. "Jack Sparrow saved Dad's life at the expense of his own and his crew's. The least I can offer is to help out around here."

"You don't owe Sparrow anything," she said, wrinkling her nose at mention of the pirate. "He's just a ruffian."

"I'm not doing it for him. I'm doing it because I feel like I should. Besides, it'll keep me from getting bored. I know next to nothing about sailing and would most likely sink this ship if I tried to help out on deck. That's why I'm below it, where I know what I'm doing."

"All right," she said defensively, not bothering to hide the hurt on her face.

She looked around the galley in silence and Evy felt guilty for having been so harsh. The fact that her mother was possibly feeling as wretched as herself only just occurred to her. She'd lost her home too. She was stranded with pirates too.

"Evy," she began suddenly. "I'm sorry for losing my temper with your father."

"Understandable I guess," she shrugged. "He can irritate something awful."

She smiled. "Yes, he can." She looked searchingly into her daughter's face and whispered, "Was he really going to be hanged?"

Evy nodded. "Emerson heard it in town while a patron discussed business at the blacksmith's. We couldn't just let him die, Mum. He didn't deserve that, no matter what you think of him."

"Oh, Evy, I don't want him to die," she insisted vehemently. "I was just afraid for my children. You can't begrudge me that. If you'd been caught—and you nearly were—they'd have convicted you as well. All three of you would have been hanged."

"I know," she whispered. "But we got away. He's safe. We're all safe."

She nodded, but didn't say anything. Neither of them really knew what to say. Each had apologized in a roundabout way for both had a little too much pride.

Suddenly though, "Evy, if there's ever a next time in which you and Emerson are going to break your father out of jail, will you _please_ not keep it from me?"

Evy grinned. "I promise, Mum. Dad will more than likely find himself in jail again someday."

"Thank you," she said gratefully.

"Mum?" she asked, rotating her shoulder blades. They were very stiff from all the scrubbing.

"Yes, dear?"

"You called me Evy just now. You haven't done that before."

She seemed only vaguely surprised. "Did I? Hmm, old routines catching up, I'd say, being aboard a pirate ship again."

"What do you mean?"

"Evelyn, as you know, was your grandmother's name. I carried it on because my grandmother was dear to me. Your father was not too fond of it, however, so he shortened it to Evy, insisting that Evelyn made you sound like a crotchety old school marm."

She knew then, that her mother's refusal to call her Evy all these years was because it had been his suggestion. Another way to refuse he'd even been in her life at all. However, she did not voice this thought. Even more disconcerting was the fact that Evy herself had adopted this behavior, always insisting people call her by the _crotchety_ version of her name.

"I'm not crotchety, am I Mum?" she asked uneasily. "I mean to say, I don't mind Evy, but I was just used to Evelyn, I suppose."

"No, darling. Of course not," she laughed. "As much as I loved my grandmother, perhaps Evy is better suited for your spirit. Caring though she was, Granny Evelyn spent most of her time knitting indoors."

Evy wrinkled her nose. Such a boring past time. She'd tried knitting and various other methods of sewing, but quickly lost patience with her inept talent for the task and had given it up.

Mum chuckled. "My point exactly. Evy it is, then?"

"Anything to keep from being crotchety," she agreed.

"Are you sure you can handle all this?" she asked, indicating the galley.

She laughed. "Of course, Mum. Running the inn's kitchen is hardly different, though, I do miss the cleanliness of our guests. Pirates seem inclined to be as gross as humanly possible."

"I can understand that, when I was..."

Evy waited for the rest of the sentence, but it never came. Briefly, it seemed her mother was about to reveal a glimpse of her time on board the _Retribution_ with Dad, but was not forthcoming with information.

"Actually," she went on. "I know you _can_ handle the meals for the crew, but what I meant was can you handle it by yourself?"

Evy stopped her scrubbing and stared in surprise at her mother. "Do you mean, do this together?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well…" she said carefully, "working in here means you'll occasionally have to look at and speak to Dad."

"You've obviously inherited his wit," she dully said, digging around for a rag with which to join in the cleaning.

"Is that such a bad thing?" she countered.

"That depends on how one looks at it."

"All right, then how do you look at it?" Evy pressed.

"You've got his persistence too," she said, a ghost of a smile drifting across her mouth.

Her mum joined in the cleaning, choosing to work on the tables, tiptoeing around Peggy as she did so. Any forthcoming explanations, however, did not appear.

Evy decided on a more direct approach. "Why don't you like talking about your time with Dad while you were on the _Retribution_?"

Mum didn't stop cleaning, but her hands slowed to revolve around the same spot. "Evy, that was a long time ago. Sometimes things are better left in the past."

"But as your children, we've born the direct brunt of your anger towards each other. It hasn't been easy you know. Emerson and I deserve some kind of explanation."

However, her mother didn't appear to think so, as she silently moved onto cleaning the rest of the tables. Evy decided to let it drop. Perhaps it was still too soon. Neither of her parents had said two words to each in their ten years apart. Now they were suddenly forced onto one ship and would most likely have no other choice but to get along.

"Evy, I…," she started. "Sometimes people bury things because they're better left forgotten. Trying to dig them up again can hurt you or the people you love."

"Like pirate's treasure, eh?"

She nodded. "Exactly."

"Unlucky for you and Dad."

"Why's that?" she asked with suspicious curiosity.

"Emerson and I are both half pirate. Looking for buried treasure is in our blood."

Evy threw down her rag, exhausted of scrubbing and began rubbing her hands, hoping to soothe their burning. Her mum had stopped scrubbing and was watching her with surprise.

"What?" Evy asked after too many silent minutes had passed.

"For a moment…you forcefully reminded me of your father. The stubbornness, unfortunately, is from my half of the family."

"Two halves make a whole, Mum. I wish you'd remember that."

Her mum looked away, cheeks coloring. "It's not that I've forgotten."

"But you've just chosen to," she accused, but not harshly. "Don't you want to remember? Weren't you happy?"

"Evy—"she said warningly.

She threw out the last question fearfully, but she had to know. "Do you still love Dad?"

Her mum's hair quivered as she shook, looking about ready to rage and storm, but she sighed with enormous effort and looked Evy square in the eye. "Love was not a problem, and if you ask me another question, I'll take you over my knee and give you the walloping of your life!"

Evy's mouth had indeed opened to ask another intrusive question, but she shut it. Though she was taller than her mother, Evanna Dawes could be a little scary sometimes.

"Now get out and let me finish cleaning. You've just about scrubbed your hands bloody."

"All right, all right," she said, annoyed.

As she left her mother, however, she couldn't help but smile in satisfaction. Mum had nearly exploded, which to Evy, was a good sign. She _did_ still love Dad. The only question that remained was how to get them to both stop being so stupid about the whole mess they'd created.

To her surprise, Emerson was climbing down the mast, having left the crow's nest. He spotted her and smiled, jumping the last few feet and rushing over.

"Fine morning, isn't it, Evy?"

The boyish grin on his face was definitely new. She'd not seen it since he'd begun working as a blacksmith. It was also quite endearing and she couldn't help but return it.

"I'd have to agree, Em. So, being a pirate agrees with you, I see."

He scuffed the toe of his boot against the deck. "Well, I don't know about that," he said sheepishly, but couldn't suppress his grin, obviously pleased with her observation.

"You'll be a grand captain one day," she predicted. "Just don't take any lessons from Sparrow."

"Why not? He's brilliant."

"And a drunk," she observed, watching ship's captain ambling about the helm.

"Don't be so judgmental. Dad's a pirate after all, and Captain Sparrow capably sprung him from jail _and_ got us out of Nassau alive."

Evy wasn't one to give in so easily. "Be that as it may, Dad is the only pirate I've known to care about the lives of other people."

"You think Jack doesn't?" said a voice from behind.

She spun quickly to see her dad. "If he does, it's buried under layers of rum and greasy hands."

"Oh, he's a drunken scallywag make no mistake," agreed her father. "But I've never met a better captain who looks after his crew."

"I'm not a member of his crew," she argued.

"True, but let me offer some advice. He's not given to making women walk the plank, unless they deserve it of course, so you'd best be civil to him."

"How can I when I don't even like him?" she snapped, determined to hate the man. "He's vulgar, insulting and most likely has fleas."

Dad laughed. "All of the above, however, Jack has a sneaking way of growing on you. By the time we catch up with the map stealer you'll be the best of mates."

Evy grunted her disagreement.

"Listen, little girl," he said, light mood abandoned in favor of a sterner one. "We've still a long way to go until we catch up with Tarrington. He's got nearly a week's head start and Jack's the best protection we've got. You'd do well to listen to him." He gripped her shoulder firmly and wagged his finger at her. "I suggest you make it easy on yourself and try not to be as hardheaded as your mother…or father," he added as an afterthought.

"Have you talked to Mum yet?" Emerson asked suddenly.

Jim's demeanor got shifty. "Er…no, I haven't even seen her."

"Why are you supposed to talk to her?" Evy asked with new curiosity.

"I'll tell you later," said her brother out of the side of his mouth.

"She's still in the galley," Evy informed him. "And quite alone."

His eyes widened as though caught between a rock and a hard place. "Blast it all," he muttered. "Fine. I'll do it now."

"What was all that about?" she asked, watching her father disappear below deck.

"Last night I talked him into sorting this out with Mum," he answered with a smirk.

Evy's mouth dropped open. "You didn't?!" she cried, amazed at the coincidence presented. "She just all but admitted to me that she still loves him. She nearly beat me over the head for asking, but I got a confession just the same."

"Sister dear," he said happily, clapping her on the shoulders. "I think the winds are changing."

"Oh, Em, I hope you're right."

"One road leads to bloodshed, the other towards coexistence. If they can take the second road with only a little bloodshed, everything should turn out fine."

A flare of hope ignited in her gut. Was it too much to wish for? Could years of anger all be reversed?

"Dawes!"

As one, Evy and Emerson turned to see Sparrow strolling towards them, arms flailing about.

"Speak of the walking infestation," she muttered grimly. "Whatever he needs you for, good luck, Em."

She only got as far as one step when Sparrow shouted again, "Dawes! Don't turn your back on your captain!"

She eyed him viciously. "I was under the impression that you were addressing my brother."

"Yes, of course luv, considering I was looking directly at you when I said your name. _Clearly_, I meant your brother."

She bit down her flippant retort in an attempt to follow her father's advice. "My surname it may be, but I go by Miss Dawes to you and you _will_ address me as such."

He smiled in a very infuriating way, as though addressing a child. "'ave you forgotten whose ship you now live aboard and only by the good grace o' the captain?"

"Of course not…_Captain_," she added disrespectfully. Hang her father's advice.

Emerson backed away. "I think I've…er…got to…er right." He hurried off, throwing her an uneasy glance.

Sparrow sighed indifferently. "Listen, darling, you're on my ship and under my command so that makes—"

"Since when?" she spat. "I don't remember asking for a job."

"No, you just went and claimed one for yourself as ship's cook, eh? Bit bold don't you think? Taking on responsibilities without the permission of your captain?"

"You are _not_ my captain."

"Very well, anyone who is not a member of this crew is therefore under this captain's jurisdiction and I award you the title of prisoner. _Savvy?_"

Mouth open wide, she spluttered her protest. "You can't—I won't—"

"Ah, perhaps you do prefer a cabin to the brig, eh luv?"

She tutted and glared back at him. "All right, Jack Sparrow…_Captain_ Jack Sparrow," she added impatiently as he'd been about to correct her. "The _Black Pearl_ is _your_ ship and you _are_ the captain."

"Right you are, luv—"

"But let's get one thing straight," she interrupted sharply. "What I'm doing here is not for you or any other pirate."

He rolled his eyes, seemingly unimpressed. "Did you forget that among your father's favorite 'obbies are pillaging and other unsavory past times?"

"Pirate he may be, Captain Sparrow, but he's my father first," she insisted.

"He's been a pirate since before you were born, missie. That's not something you can be changing or ignoring."

"Like you?" she sneered.

He grinned. "You don't like me very much do you, Miss Dawes?"

"I can't imagine what gave you that impression," she smiled sardonically.

"Am I really so terrible?"

"Do you really want me to answer that, Captain?"

"By all means, but be warned, girl, that anything you say can and will be subject to consideration for the brig."

"My father would never allow that," she said confidently.

"No? 'E's still a pirate and 'e's under my command. If I order you thrown in the brig, then 'e'll do it."

Evy glared back, but said nothing. She didn't doubt that he _would_ be that cruel. "You're just proving my point."

"And what's that, luv?" he asked, interested.

"That pirates really are the most wretched and vile walking carcasses."

He threw his head back and laughed so loud, that many heads turned to stare at them. "Nail on the 'ead, darling! I think, 'owever, that I can change your mind."

"Hmph," she huffed stubbornly. "Unlikely."

"I did save your father's life, girl," he reminded her, "and one would think that'd earn me a little respect. You 'aven't even thanked me for it."

"Thank you," she said curtly. "Satisfied?"

He shrugged carelessly. "It's a start, isn't it?"

"Is that all?" she asked, half-turning to go.

"No."

She waited.

"You did a fine job this morning. Peggy's been in need of assistance."

"Thank…you," she said awkwardly, not expecting his sudden praise.

"Will you do this everyday?"

"Everyday," she confirmed.

"Good. Can't 'ave you lazing about. Now get back to work."

She arched one eyebrow. "Very well, _Captain_."

Evy thought she'd made an escape, but she was wrong.

"One more thing, darling," he said, catching hold of her elbow.

"Yes…Captain?" she ground out.

"This ship's getting crowded. I suggest you find yourself an empty cabin before the brig _is_ the only thing available."

"I'll do that."

"If you find there's not a spare cabin, you can share mine. I've plenty of room," he said, grinning suggestively.

Evy threw his hand off. "I'd rather sleep in the brig." She spun so fast that her ponytail clocked him in the face. Without a glance back, she flounced off and went below deck.

50


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hi all! Thank you for the kind comments. It's very heartening to know you've enjoyed it so far. To answer Rockstar, thanks for the review and…a time warp storyline? No, I'd never do that, they're a teensy ridiculous, unless done by the right writer, plus having a romance with Jack is not exactly a classic fairytale. That's not how I see Jack. He may be a philandering pig, but he's my philandering pig. :)

Chapter 6: Pirates Are Mean

Evanna spent a good while re-cleaning some of what Evy had already cleaned. Not because it was still dirty, but because she needed time to settle down after the questions Evy had been so brazen to ask. That girl knew just the right questions to ask and never the appropriate time to ask them. It was hard enough having to face _him_ again after so long and now her daughter—whom she'd always thought was on her side—had suddenly defected to her father's side.

They had just helped him to escape from jail! Didn't they even consider the consequences? With a resigned shake of her head, she knew they hadn't thought ahead to the future. Both of her children often leapt ahead without checking to see that a sturdy floor was beneath their feet. It was one of the many traits Jimmy had shown during pirate raids of merchant vessels. He'd run forward, sword drawn and only worry about the consequences later. That was why he'd nearly died in her arms. That was why she left him. Worrying had become an enemy of her mind. Anger, her best friend.

"Seems your family was right, I'd say."

Evanna froze when his deep voice filled the room, sending familiar chills down her spine.

"What do you want?" she asked stiffly, though not unfriendly.

"We need to talk," he said simply.

"Talk? You?" she said in disbelief.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I can talk. I'm not as dimwitted as you so obviously believe."

Evanna's cheeks flushed with ire. "Listen here, Jimmy. If you want to talk, say it, and then leave me be."

Jimmy turned his face away from her to glare at the wall. Were a stranger to look at him, they'd not be able to see that he was angry, but to Evanna, the signs were evident. His back stiffened, increasing his height so much that his head nearly brushed the ceiling. Big, hard hands turned bone white as his grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. The little vein by his right eye jumped.

When he did look back at her, she was surprised to see the control with which he held himself.

"I'm only doing this as a favor to the children…_our_ children." She waited, too curious to stop him. "We need to make a truce, Evanna."

"What for?"

"Emerson told me that Evy was crying all night."

"Crying?" she said with concern. "She didn't say anything to me."

"Well, she wouldn't would she? Too much like you."

Evanna scowled. "I was always under the impression they took after you, what with invading a jail to rescue one of its prisoners."

"You just had to bring that up," he muttered.

She folded her arms. "What if they'd been caught? What if they'd been sentenced to the gallows? What then?"

"Stop 'what iffing'. That didn't happen. They're alive and safe."

"For how long?" she pressed. "That guard on duty saw their faces. They've no doubt got a warrant for their arrest by now."

"We'll figure that out later, all right," he said, aggravated.

"What did you mean about my family?" she asked quickly.

"What?" he asked, looking confused at her abrupt change of subject.

"When you came in, you said it looked as if my family was right. What was that supposed to mean?"

"Forget it, Evanna," he said gruffly. "I just came in here to make a truce."

"Fine, then. We have a truce. Now what did you mean about—my—family?" she asked pointedly.

"Marrying a pirate ruins a lady's future and her reputation."

She laughed. "Jimmy, there is nothing wrong with my reputation. I own a respectable business in Nassau, and—"

"_Owned_, past tense," he interrupted.

"And…" she went on as though he hadn't interrupted. "My future wasn't ruined."

"According to your family it was."

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. "Since when do you care what my family thinks? You didn't care the day we sailed away. Why now?"

Jimmy turned as though to leave, but gripped the doorframe hard. "Because you were right. They can't go back to Nassau. They can't have a future because I'm a pirate."

Evanna's icy feelings melted some, but she said, "Jimmy, you don't have the right to take full credit. They're old enough to make their own decisions. Evy and Emerson could have just as easily let you hang, but they didn't because…well, because they love you."

"Sometimes I think they love me too much," he said with a sad smile.

For once in her life, Evanna was speechless. She hadn't expected to see this side of Jimmy. He was regretting the decision he'd made to involve Evy and Emerson. It was so startling that she couldn't think of anything to say.

He cleared his throat, dismissing the solemnity of the moment. "No more fighting, Evanna. What do you say?"

She nodded. "Agreed." With a half smile, he turned to go. "Wait, Jimmy!"

He stopped, watching her curiously with those big blue eyes that used to take her breath away. She couldn't help but feel a little lightheaded though.

"Does it still hurt?"

He didn't have to ask what she meant and placed a hand over the right side of his chest. "Yeah, it does, but only when it rains a lot."

"So today is not one of those days?"

"Nope. Strength of a young sailor, I've got."

"Good," she said quietly.

They just stared at each other in uncomfortable silence until he cleared his throat again.

"Right. Guess I'd better get back to it."

He hurried out the door without giving her a chance to say anything else.

Jack and Jim sat alone at the captain's table in his cabin. For the past couple of hours they had holed themselves inside. They sat across from each other, boots propped on top of the table. Their two glasses of rum slid up and down the table along with the rhythm of the sea. Jim distractedly drummed his fingers against the table. Jack had slouched down into the chair; resting his head on the hard back and letting his arms hang over the sides. He hummed along to the tune in his head.

"How many days' head start do you think he has?" asked Jim.

"At least three, mate, providing the weather 'olds up for 'im."

"Or the ocean doesn't swallow his ship alive."

Jack grunted his agreement.

"Do you believe any of those stories, about the missing ships and the sea snakes?"

He grinned knowingly. "I've seen enough weird stuff lately to answer that with a firm yes.

"Oh, right. The walking skeletons," he said, nodding. "But we're still going after the treasure."

Jack grabbed his mug and emptied it fast. "Of course, mate. Not going to let a little sea monster put a damper on our quest, now are we?"

"Just so long as it eats you before it eats me, Jack," he said with a chuckle. "But are you sure this is still worth it?"

"Worth what?" Jim dodged Jack's sharp eye. "Ah, you're worried abou' your little family."

"Well, I was all for it at first," he said uncomfortably. "Now that they're here, though…Emerson can handle himself fine. I've been giving him pointers, but it's been ten years since Evanna's traveled by ship and Evy seems to be adjusting well, but she's no sailor."

"I'll order Evanna and Evy to stay below deck if a sea snake decides to suddenly drop in for tea time, and if they refuse, I'll lock them in the brig."

"Brilliant. And if the ship sinks?" he snorted, not impressed.

"Then we'll all go to merry little 'eaven together, won't we?"

"Be serious, Jack. There's a real threat here to those women."

"You're the one who insisted on bringing them along for the ride, mate."

"I know," he said, annoyed, "So if I can keep them from getting into a worse situation, I will."

"There's no island out 'ere 'cept for the one we're trying to find. We can't let them off somewhere and we can't turn back."

Jim frowned.

"Look, Jim, it's like you said. Young Emerson looks to be shaping 'imself into a fine pirate. Evanna has grit enough that she could probably kill a sea snake just by looking at it, and your baby girl is a scrappy duck. So do yourself a favor and stop fretting like a mother 'en."

"More words of wisdom from the famous Captain Sparrow."

With a self-indulgent grin, Jack reached for the bottle and helped himself to more rum. "You were right 'bout your little girl."

"What do you mean?" he asked, interested.

He swallowed a rather large mouthful with difficulty, nearing choking. "That lass is the most disagreeable female I've ever met, and I've known _quite_ a few females in my day," Jack grinned as he recalled a few interesting situations.

Jim gave him an odd look and cocked his head to the side. "In what way disagreeable?"

"For one, her mouth is larger than the 'ull of this vessel."

He choked on his rum as a laugh bubbled in his throat. "I'd like to take credit for that, but it's her mum who gave her that."

"I was tempted to throw little Evy overboard a few days back."

Jim laughed. "I 'ad the same thought about Evanna, actually."

"So what's the story there with your little woman, eh? Will she be able to cope on another pirate ship? The last one wasn't too good for 'er."

"She'll be all right. I think," he added uncertainly.

Jack frowned. "You might want to think about giving the ship's captain a little more confidence, mate."

"We've had a talk and come to an understanding of sorts," he said soothingly.

"Oh, that's good. Could you make some understanding with your daughter? She's bloody irritating."

Jim laughed heartily. "You'll get used to her. Put it in perspective, Jack. Piracy was never a welcomed practice in the family. Now they're aboard a pirate ship with the most pirate of them all."

Jack grinned smugly. "Pirate of them all, eh?" Yep, that was him.

"She seems to have made a place for herself though," he pointed out.

Jack shrugged indifferently. "She's all right, I s'pose. Food ain't burned at least."

"Come on, Jack. It was better than all right. These meals are the best I've ever had on a pirate ship."

"Just what exactly are you sayin', mate?" Jack eyed him shrewdly.

"Peggy's a bit slow isn't he, Jack? I'll bet he enjoys 'aving 'elp."

"You think I should keep 'er? Permanently?" Jack stared at his friend as though he just declared an end to his pirate life to spend his days as a respectable man.

"Why not? She's already on the run with pirates. What's left for 'er to go back to?"

Jack's feet dropped off the table, landing with a loud thwap on the floor. "I can't 'ave 'er cooking 'ere forever. A woman on board is bad luck."

Jim rolled his eyes and snorted. "When 'as bad luck ever stopped you from allowin' a bonnie lass aboard?"

"Because it could be dangerous. Now we 'ave no choice, but in the future…"

Jim stood abruptly. "Sure, Jack. Deny it."

"Deny what?" he asked, perplexed.

"I think you like 'er."

"Sure I like 'er. I'd like to throw 'er overboard. She's a bloody nuisance."

"Yeah, and I don't think you mind that."

Jack slowly stood too. "I need to get back to being ship's captain."

"Gibbs is a capable first mate."

He shrugged. "If you must know this conversation 'as become boring."

"Whatever you say, Jack."

Once the wheel was back in his hands, Jack relaxed and kept a steady eye on the horizon. The island was getting closer. He knew this with certainty because he'd been this way before…and he knew there would be surprises in store. The island had a habit of disappearing into thin air. That was why he'd come up empty handed the last time he'd been in this part of the ocean. The bearings were never the same. He expected as much this time. As far as he knew, no one had taken so much as a single piece of treasure away from the island. If they had managed it, they'd never been seen again.

Course, Jack was never one to back down from a challenge when it came to treasure. This time would be different.

Jack's attention wandered away from the island to the crew member that had just come above deck. She looked up and waved at the figure high above in the crow's nest. To his amazement, she began climbing to join her brother. Then he nearly jumped out of his skin when she slipped, but quickly caught herself and laughed the rest of the way up. Emerson pulled her in and she stumbled again because she couldn't stop laughing.

Jack scowled. Bloody foolish thing to do. Didn't she understand that the crow's nest was for experts only? How could she leave poor Peggy by himself? Had she become bored with her new duty already? Peggy needed help, so why wasn't she helping him?

His concern, of course, was only for his ship's ailing cook and not for the girl who'd slipped while very high in the air. He most definitely wasn't bothered with the images of her falling and splattering all over the deck. She still just stood up there with her brother, laughing about her near death experience as though laughing at a joke she'd just heard.

"Bloody woman," he grumbled.

"A word, Cap'n?"

Jack broke from his tumultuous musings. "Mr. Gibbs!"

Gibbs approached and spoke softly as though hoping to keep their conversation private. He even glanced over his shoulder before speaking.

"If I've said it before, I'll just have to say it again. Having a woman aboard is bad luck. But we're not going to have bad luck. We're all going to drown as the ship sinks because there are _two_ women on board."

Jack couldn't disagree with that. "Aye. Women are worth more trouble than good."

Gibbs scratched his long sideburns nervously. "So what'll it be, Captain? Shall we dump them as soon as possible?"

"And where do you suggest we dump 'em?" he asked, indicating the vast ocean with no sight of land.

Gibbs darted his eyes to the ocean and back to Jack. "Women are light, airy creatures. Perhaps they could float back to whence they came."

Jack nodded. "Tempting, Gibbs. Tempting. And as I've said before, it'd be far worse not to 'ave 'em on board, seeing as they're both daft little things. Jim wouldn't like it either."

Gibbs looked as though his candy had just been stolen. "O' course, Cap'n." He stomped off in a pout, eying the girl in the crow's nest with distrust.

It really wasn't such a bad idea. She wasn't all that useful. Well, maybe the meals were better than Peggy's because they weren't burned or reused for days on end, but she was still a nuisance who could do nothing else but argue.

For what it was worth though, he did enjoy annoying Evy. It helped to pass the time at least. Besides, she deserved some bullying seeing as she was a double crosser when it came to rum. It wasn't as if she needed special treatment. There was nothing extraordinary about her. She wasn't even pretty to tell the truth. Hair the color of mud, which was getting frizzier the further they got out to sea. Cold blue eyes that fired icy daggers were hardly appealing. Plus, that mouth was too big for her own good. Course, he had thought about kissing that mouth a couple of days ago, but that was just habit.

Evy laughed yet again as she leaned over the railing. What possessed her to be in such a good mood today? She was really leaning over much too far. Jack held his breath. The ridiculous girl was going to fall.

"Evy!!" he shouted, not managing to stop himself.

She straightened up quickly and looked around, searching for him. When she found the source of the voice, the laughter in her face disappeared and she glared back. He pointed to her, then to the deck and finally at himself. She apparently got the message and made her way down the mast, a little too quickly in his opinion and stalked over.

"You called?"

"Let's you and I 'ave a talk, darling." He strung rope over the spoke of the wheel to hold it in place, took her by the arm and marched her down to his cabin.

She cast him a cagey eye as he shut the doors and rounded on her. "You do realize where you are, don't you, luv?"

"In your cabin, on your ship," she supplied flippantly.

"Precisely. Just what do you think you were doing up there?" he asked quietly.

"Talking to my brother. Is that a crime? Are you going to demand I stay holed up in the galley?" she asked, blue eyes flashing dangerously.

"Not at all, luv. Go anywhere on deck you like, 'cept the crow's nest."

"Why?" she asked, confused.

"Because, darling. It's not a toy."

"I know that."

"Do you? It looked as though you were 'bout to take a nose dive onto my deck, which was just swabbed this morning, and which you couldn't clean if you had taken a nose dive because you would now be dead and unable to."

"I wasn't going to fall."

"Looked that way to me, luv."

She narrowed her eyes. "What would you care if I fell?"

"I don't care, luv," he said carelessly, "'owever, you 'appen to be Jim's daughter and 'e wouldn't be too pleased."

"You don't care about my father," she scoffed. "All you care about is your precious treasure, pilfering pirate that you are."

He stuck his nose in her face, also narrowing his eyes. "You're not so far from piracy yourself, girlie. You lied to a Royal Navy officer to break your father—a pirate—out of jail. You then evaded capture and boarded a pirate ship willingly. You're living the life of a pirate whether you like it or not."

"Don't call me that, Jack," she whispered, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Callin' it like I see it, luv," he shot back.

"I am _not_ a pirate. I'll never be as pathetic or a…as—or," she spluttered, searching for strong enough words. "…or as mean!"

"Mean?" he laughed. "Ha! Is that the best you can come up with?" Jack didn't understand why he was goading her, but he couldn't stop. "Such a fancy English princess ought to know bigger words than that."

"Bigger words? I'll give you bigger words, Captain Jack Sparrow!!" she yelled.

Jack took two steps away from her. The look in her eyes suggested she was about to spit fire. She marched forward until his back hit the wall with a bang.

"I'll never descend to the depths of the abhorrence in which you have elected to live nor will I permit myself to exist as a degenerate miscreant to gratify my unseemly desires all for the sake of gold that does not belong to me!"

Jack had raised his hands in front of him in case she decided to induce bodily harm upon his person. She blew loose hair away from her face, placed her hands on her hips and fixed him with her steely blue eyes.

"Are those big enough words for you, oh great pirate?"

Jack was usually a pretty even-tempered man, but something about this bloody wench made him desperately want to shoot her, but as he couldn't do that, he did something much worse. The horrible words were flying from his mouth before he could stop them.

"Seems to me your father was lucky the day your mum decided to jump ship with two brats in tow."

"Excuse me?" she asked in shock.

"She passed on 'er lovely gift to 'er charming daughter. Pity the man who gets landed with you, luv, because your mouth is enough to drive any man to go down with 'is ship just to get away from you."

Evy's mouth slowly fell open. Jack's blood ran cold. He saw it there in her eyes, eyes that were no longer shooting daggers, but were filling with tears. She just stood there, staring at him as though unable to comprehend what he'd just done. He took a step towards her.

"Evy," he whispered. "I…"

She hurried past him, shrinking away as he tried to reach for her and leaving him alone in the dead quiet of his cabin.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Once a Pirate, Always a Pirate

Though she hated him for the remark about her parents, Evy was more ashamed about her reaction to what Jack had said about _her_. To make matters worse, she'd stupidly let him see that one inevitable weakness belonging to a woman—her tears. He'd probably had a good laugh about it once she'd gone.

The words _Pity the man who gets landed with you_ repeated over and over in her head. She'd been shaken badly enough to skip cooking for the crew. The next morning she told Peggy that her sea legs were wobbly and that she needed to lie down. He'd readily agreed, eying her with concern. She must have looked ill indeed. He'd even offered to walk her to the cabin she shared with her mother. Though she'd kindly refused his help, he did it anyway.

At one point, her mum had come in to check on her, but Evy faced the wall, feigning sleep. Cool hands had pressed gently against her forehead, apparently searching for fever. Evy didn't doubt her skin was hot, as she'd been crying the better part of the morning. Mum had then spread a blanket across her prone form and quietly closed the door.

Later that night, however, she had cried herself thirsty, wincing with each scratchy swallow, and flung herself from the bunk. She hurried toward the galley, fearful that she might run into Jack, and she did run into someone.

Her mother was sitting alone at a table with a steaming mug of tea in front of her. She jumped in surprise at Evy's loud entrance, who had shut the door with a bang. Relief materialized over her mother's face.

"Oh, I'm so glad to see you up, sweetheart. I was beginning to worry you might have caught something horrible from one of these pirates."

"I think I did," she mumbled, sitting down across from her mum. She had wanted to be alone at first, but now that she wasn't, she was grateful for the company.

Mum patted her hand. "Tea?"

Evy nodded. In no time, there was a second mug of tea on the table and she clutched the hot tin with both hands, savoring its warmth. As the scalding liquid trickled down her throat, the tension in her body relaxed, though her mind traveled fast as the wind.

"Now…" began Mum, who'd let the silence last shortly, "Would you like to tell me why you've been crying?"

Evy's eyebrows rose. "How did you know?"

"We share a cabin, Evy. Since the evening past, you've been snuffling."

Scowling, Evy vowed to smother herself with twice as many blankets and pillows the next time she decided to cry all day. Her mother still watched her expectantly and Evy knew she wouldn't be able to worm her way out of this conversation. She truly hated to repeat what Jack had said about her parents for fear that it would hurt her mother.

"It was Jack, wasn't it?"

In amazement, Evy wondered if her mother could read minds. "Yes, it was."

"You seem to get on well with the crew, but it occurs to me that the captain is not your favorite person."

Evy said nothing. She knew she should hate Jack for his cruel words, but part of her was frightened that he'd been telling the truth.

"Let me tell you something about Jack. Course, I'm sure you've already discovered this for yourself, but he's got a big mouth and through the years, it's gotten him into trouble. Whatever he said…just let the wind cast it into the ocean."

_Big mouth_…ironic, that's what Jack had said about her, that her mouth would sink any man with his ship. The thought of having anything in common with that pirate was nothing short of repulsive. But it was true. She'd gotten along well with the crew, but anytime she minced words with _that_ man, she felt like decking him for good measure.

Evy hated fighting. Her parents had only spoken to each other for the benefit of their children, but kind words had been few and far between. After a particularly nasty round of insults, Evy had vowed to never fight with anyone and here she was, repeating history, so to speak.

"What exactly did he say?" asked Mum, interrupting Evy's thoughts.

She hesitated, not wanting to voice his words.

"Never mind," said Mum suddenly. "If you'd rather not tell me, then I don't want you to. But if you need to, I'm always here to listen."

Evy decided to say something much riskier. "Mum, why did you leave Dad behind on the _Retribution_?"

She couldn't discern from her mother's expression whether or not she was angry, but she did see comprehension. Her mother must have deduced that Jack had made a derogatory comment about them.

"He almost died, Evy. The captain ordered an attack of a merchant vessel and one member of that crew took a lucky shot at your father. Here." She pointed to the left side of her chest. "There being no doctor on board, it was left to me and others with minor experience to take the bullet out. He lost so much blood…" she trailed off, looking to the past. Evy waited, respectfully quiet. "He was unconscious for two days, but your father is the strongest man I know and he was soon up and about in a few weeks."

Evy listened, enraptured to the story she'd never heard and kept quiet lest her mother decide to cut it short.

"By then, I'd tired of his _occupation_. He'd been shot twice before. Once in the leg, the other in his shoulder. Unfortunately, all three happened while he was married to me. He'd barely had so much as a scratch before he met me." She sedately swirled the tin mug around, watching its contents. "One of the many reasons Gibbs keeps ailing about women being bad luck."

"But that wasn't your fault," she protested heatedly.

"Of course not, but that didn't matter. They avoided me as though I had some horrible disease. The crew was against my joining them in the first place."

"What happened when they found out about Emerson?"

She made a face. "Let's just say they were not in the least excited, but he was a boy. His late night crying was eventually accepted. I recall, in fact, the captain saying he had a strong set of pipes and would yell at his own pirate crew one day."

Strangely, thought Evy, that prediction seemed about to come true.

"But then _you_ were born and I thought we'd be forced to walk the plank. Two females meant twice the bad luck."

"That's nonsense," she said irritably.

"You can't change a pirate's superstition. Your father's injuries were an unfortunate coincidence." She chuckled. "He probably hasn't been hurt since I left."

"You left because you were afraid that the next time Dad wouldn't be so lucky."

She nodded sadly. "I've put you and Emerson through something terrible, but I hated piracy. I'd grown weary of worrying about him and when Emerson and you were born, I had two more reasons to worry for my family's safety." She held Evy under a sudden stern eye. "Piracy is a dangerous business. People die on both sides. Should you ever decide to hand your heart over to a pirate, you'll be in for a world of trouble."

"Not a chance of that happening," she said, turning her nose up at the thought.

"Oh, you can't predict the future, Evy," she said, a reminiscent smile brightening her face. "Never thought I'd love a pirate, but you're proof that any respectable young woman will swoon when a handsome pirate smiles at her."

Evy laughed at the absurdity of the turn the conversation had taken. "I'm not the type of girl who swoons, Mum."

"It's the truth," she defended. "Sometimes these things happen when you least expect them to. Jack…for instance."

Evy stopped laughing. "Jack Sparrow?"

"The only Jack on board."

"I'm afraid I don't follow," she said, perplexed.

"Beneath his…_unusual_ exterior, he's rather eye-catching, don't you think?"

Eyes getting wider by the second, Evy stared at her mother as though a stranger had taken her place. "Jack…_Jack Sparrow_? Mum, did you by any chance sneak some of the captain's rum into your tea?"

Her mother laughed, eyes suddenly twinkling. "Course not."

Evy grimaced. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Are you saying that you haven't even noticed?" she asked with mild surprise.

"Noticed what?" she said, utterly bewildered.

"Oh…never mind," she said hastily, sipping her tea nervously.

She stared at her mum for a while, wondering where on earth _that_ had come from. Even thinking of Jack right now made her stomach tremor uneasily. At some point, she'd have to face him. She couldn't stay below deck in her cabin forever. But what was to be said when she _did_ finally see him?

"Do you think you can patch it up, what happened, between you and Jack?" asked Mum, breaking into Evy's whirling thoughts.

"I don't know," she said honestly. She hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Well, I'm not going to tell you what to do, but in the long run, it might makes things easier on you both," she said sensibly.

"I suppose," she murmured.

"Evy, I admit I've made mistakes," she said, deliberately slow. "And I grew to hate piracy, eventually passing that fervor onto you. Your brother is too enamored of his father to have let anything I say change his mind, but that's a good thing," she added quickly.

"Dad is a good man," she said softly. "But I hated him for being a pirate because it made you sad. Sometimes I saw you crying."

She smiled the same sad smile. "I'm sorry for whatever ill feelings I caused you to have toward your father." She pounded her fist softly against the wooden table. "But I couldn't take it anymore—all the worry.

"Dad would never stop being a pirate, would he?"

"Oh, no. The adventure and excitement has too great a pull on him, and that makes him happy. Why would I want to make him unhappy by asking him to leave it behind for me?"

"But, Mum, he's not happy."

Her mother glanced away, eyes lowered. "Maybe. Ten years is a long time, Evy dear. What's happened cannot be undone in a few days."

"Well it seems as though we've got more than a few days," Evy said, unable to keep away the hopeful lilt in her voice.

Mum did not reply, but stood and stretched. "I need sleep, Evy, so I think I'll head back to our cabin."

"All right, but as I've sleeping all day, I'm not the least bit tired."

She smiled, leaned over and kissed her on the temple. "My lovely girl."

Just as she was about to leave, Evy spun round to ask one last question. "Mum, why all the questions about Jack?"

Had Evy not been closely watching her mother, she would have missed the hesitation in her eyes. "Just remember that even though he is a pirate, he's still a good man. He could have decided to let your father remain in jail and go after the treasure himself…but, he didn't."

After Evanna had left her daughter alone in the galley and long after she'd gone to bed, she revisited the conversation in her mind. Words always had a lasting effect over any physical pain. Through the years, she'd refrained from saying too much about their father in front of them, but occasionally let slip a remark that they never forgot. Then there were the arguments that were _never_ kept quiet.

_"Jimmy, why do you always have to go back? Your children need you."_

_"It's my job. I couldn't leave my captain stranded without a first mate."_

_"A job not recognized as a real job by society," she argued._

_"You didn't mind it when you married me, luv," he said nastily._

_"Well, I mind it now! It's repulsive."_

_"Why do you hate it so much? It's not like I go round murdering people for laughs."_

_"Piracy is not the occupation of a respectable man," she said prudishly._

_"Good thing I'm a pirate then, eh?" he fired back._

_"Oh, yes, it's a good thing. You just rob innocent people of their fairly earned wages. No shame in that."_

_"Speaking of which, I'm late for an-innocent-ship-plundering celebration. Care to join me?"_

_"I'll never set foot on a pirate ship again! Never!"_

Famous last words…she thought moodily, pounding her pillow. Though reluctant to admit it to herself, it hadn't been as horrible as before. The salty air and crisp winds were just as she remembered. She loved standing on deck watching the sun come up. She'd watched many a sunrise with Jimmy. Sometimes she'd climb up the crow's nest to watch it with him. It had always been their moment alone before his duties began. Just this morning, in fact, she'd watched the sun come up and Jimmy was high in his favorite place watching her watch the sun. The pull to join him had been strong, but she resisted and turned away.

Telling Evy about the day Jimmy nearly died had been more difficult than she realized, but now that she had, she felt better. The hurt still resided in her memory, but it lessened with each passing day. Maybe if she could move past her animosity towards piracy, maybe she could help Evy move past them as well.

As far as her daughter was concerned, Evanna did worry. She'd seen Jack looking at Evy in his usual unseemly way, but there was also something else in his eyes. Evanna had a guess and she'd begun to fish for information from Evy. The girl really had seemed perplexed when asked about Jack, so maybe Evanna's hunch was wrong, but she didn't think so.

They were watching her again. Those eyes followed her every move. She stood there passing out plates as the crew shuffled in for the meal and Jack was the last in line. She hadn't even noticed him. Her back was to the door, and even though the night was warm, she'd shivered suddenly and turned around to find that dark gaze burning holes into her back.

The line eventually dwindled, but he didn't come to get a plate. Instead he leaned against the doorframe, arms folded and waited. She got so flustered after his continued silent vigil that she shot him a look that clearly said, "What?" Gold teeth sparkled in the candlelight as he grinned. Evy almost threw the last plateful of food she was holding at his smirking face, but managed to hand it over to the crewman before succumbing to temptation.

When the crew had settled down to their meal, Jack sauntered over.

"A word, darling?"

"I can't leave, Jack," she protested, indicating the full galley.

"They've all been fed," he pointed out. "Peggy!"

The old cook spun round, looking wildly about until he saw Jack looking at him. "Aye, Cap'n?"

"Can you spare Miss Dawes for a moment?"

_Say no. Say no._

"Course, Cap'n. She's all yers."

Evy slumped in defeat. It looked as if she could avoid him no longer. He took her by the arm, only it was gentler compared to the day he'd yanked her into his cabin, but that was not their intended destination this time. He led her along until they reached the bow.

"You've been avoiding me," he began.

"As have you," she reminded him.

"Fair enough, luv," he yielded.

When he didn't say anything further, she said impatiently, "Jack, did you want to tell me something?"

"S'matter o' fact, yes."

"Then will you get on with it? I've got a messy crew to clean up after."

"The mess ain't going anywhere, luv. It'll still be there whenever you get back."

"So why wasted my time when I could have already started?"

Evy started back across the deck, but had barely gone two feet before he called after her, "D'you always 'ave to turn everything into an argument?"

She froze; the vow she'd made drifting into her thoughts. Here she was doing it again. Fighting with him when he'd wanted was a moment of her time. Breathing deeply, she walked back to him and calmly said, "I'm sorry."

Jack grinned. "You know you're really quite pretty when fire shoots from those icy blues."

"So?" she said, feigning indifference, but was listening closely.

"So your mum's a fair sight. Too bad you didn't inherit her Irish coloring, though you certainly 'ave the temper of an Irish woman. No mistake there."

"Thanks for left-handed compliment."

"Anytime, luv."

Evy cleared her throat impatiently. "You were saying?"

"What I've got to say is what you just said because it's what I need to say to make things right."

"Sorry?" she said, completely at a loss as to what he was talking about.

"Yes, that!" He cried, pointing at her. "That! What you said just then!"

"What I just said? D'you mean…sorry?"

"Yes, sorry. I'm…sorry."

Evy couldn't believe he was apologizing.

"What I said 'bout your parents—I was out of line, darling."

Evy stared at the obviously uncomfortable pirate. Jack had turned away briefly to look out over the bow, but kept throwing her a sidelong glance, as if to gauge her reaction without actually having to look at her.

He snapped his fingers. "Oh, and um...the other thing."

"What other thing?" she asked, though fearing she already knew.

Instead of looking away, he looked her right in the eye. "Any man would be lucky to 'ave you, Evy, and your mouth."

"My mouth?"

"Because the bloke could kiss you everyday," he said cheekily.

Yesterday, perhaps, that remark would have ruffled Evy's feathers so badly that she would have decked him, but tonight, she startled herself as laughter erupted from her lips. Jack looked just as surprised as she did.

"Ah, so you can smile, darling. Been wondering if I'd ever see it."

Evy cleared her throat nervously, cheeks red. "Well, I'm sorry too," she said sincerely.

"Friends?" he asked, extending a hand.

Evy eyed the grease-covered extremity. The reason for that had been made clear. Jack loved the _Black Pearl_. Just because he was the captain didn't mean he didn't take care of his own ship. A man that cared for his vessel as though it were a loving member of his family couldn't be _all_ bad.

"Friends," she said, shaking.

He held on longer than was deemed normal as a friendly handshake and his eyes swept over her a time or two, rather hopefully she thought.

"Don't push it, Jack," she warned affably.

He dropped her hand as though it were on fire. "Course, darling." Suddenly, he began rifling around behind his back and happily produced...what else, a bottle of rum. Jack leaned with his back against the rail, crossed his feet and tilted the bottle up to his mouth.

Evy wasn't as disgusted with this habit after having spent so much time on board now. Rum bottles were a fixture of Jack rather like the keel was to a ship.

"Can I tempt you, luv?" he asked, waving the bottle in front of her face.

"I think not," she said, pushing it away.

"Don't know what you're missing."

She too leaned against the rail, but faced the ocean rather than away from it. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

His eyes swept over her again before coming to a stop on her face. Once again, he said nothing. This habit of watching her while not saying anything was more unnerving than anything else. She felt as though he were trying to read her mind. It wouldn't her surprise if he could. Jack was full of surprises.

"Can I ask you something?" she ventured, filling the uncomfortable quiet.

"Anything you like, luv."

"Why were you so upset with me for being up there?" she asked, indicating the long mast and crow's nest at the peak.

"I didn't want you to fall, darling."

"Emerson was there. He wouldn't have let me fall."

"The ocean is an unpredictable enemy at times. The _Pearl_ may 'ave lurched suddenly. If you must go up there, please remember we're not on solid ground."

"Hmm," she said, not having thought of it that way. "You're right."

"Of course I—, "He looked at her sharply, head lolling back a bit. "Did you just say that I was right?"

"Yes, I did," she confirmed.

"That deserves another round I think."

He started to take another drink, but she grasped his wrist quickly. Droplets landed against the bare skin at his neck. "Don't get used to it."

"Silly of me," he said, catching the droplets before they vanished and sucked them off his fingertips.

She distinctly heard him mutter, "Bloody woman," under his breath.

It was some time later that either of them said anything again. She left him to his rum and stared at the ocean, a past time she never tired of. The moonlight cascaded over the diamond-crested waters and splashed against the hull, spraying her face as she closed her eyes. This was a feeling she could get used to.

"You seem to be at 'ome on my ship," he said suddenly, words beginning to run together. The rum was doing its job.

"What makes you say that?"

"You got your sea legs all speedy-like and you stare at the ocean as though you want to swim in it forever."

Evy shrugged. "Maybe being comfortable with the ocean runs in my blood."

"Or maybe it's because you're 'alf pirate."

In her peripheral view, she saw him watching her. "I suppose."

"All right, luv. Now it's my turn to ask you a question."

"Ask away," she conceded.

"Why are you so determined to 'ate pirates?"

Stubbornly, she stayed silent, but when his unflinching gaze offered no escape, she decided to be honest. After all, he'd been honest with her so far. Well, at least, she _thought_ he had.

"I didn't know that my dad nearly died while on the _Retribution_. Mum only recently revealed that. She left him because of it, because she was scared it would happen again."

"There's always danger, Evy, whether a man's a pirate or a sailor in the Royal Navy. Being a pirate doesn't change that."

She nodded, swallowing against the sudden lump in her throat. "I understand that, but it divided our family. Sometimes, I hated him for making her sad and sometimes, I hated her for taking us away from him, and..."

He waited quietly, watching her curiously.

"What you said, about the man who might marry me."

"Oh, don't pay any attention to that, luv. I was lying."

"No, you weren't."

"No, really," he insisted, swaying a bit. "I do it all the time. Even in me sleep."

"Jack, you _were_ right. I've always been stubborn, but ever since I boarded your ship, I've been nothing but angry. Every time I laid eyes on you, for instance, I wanted to punch you in the nose."

"Thanks, luv. It's nice to be appreciated," he said dryly.

"Jack, I'm serious. You _were_ right. My mother passed on her anger to me. I don't want to repeat history, but what if I do?"

"Not going to 'appen," he said confidently, sounding almost sober.

"But how do you know?" she asked, begging for some advice.

"Because you're standing 'ere talking to a pirate and you 'aven't threatened bodily 'arm of any sort. That's progress, luv. Savvy?"

With a frustrated sigh, she turned back to the no longer peaceful ocean. Waves violently crashed against the hull, which moaned with each strike. She lurched over and Jack caught her by the waist as she fell into him. Once she felt able to handle herself again, she pushed off of him. He didn't look too happy about that.

"We're not _all_ bad, you know?" he said, speech twice as thick.

"I know," she answered honestly, blinking fast to keep him from seeing her tears again, but it was too late.

He gently took hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Chin up, luv."

In his gaze resided genuine concern; not something she associated with Jack, but once again, he'd taken her by surprise. His eyes were black in the moonlight, suggesting the mind behind them was as murky as the ocean under the cover of darkness. Not once had she been able to decipher the numerous expressions Jack possessed. He was a mystery never to be solved.

He blinked heavily, the stupor of drink beginning to take over. Releasing her chin, he draped his arm over her shoulder and tugged gently on her hair. She shivered as the prickly sensations assaulted her scalp. He drained the very last drop of the rum and tossed the bottle overboard.

She knew, perhaps from the beginning of the conversation, what was going to happen. Jack suddenly pressed his mouth to hers, winding the other arm around her waist, and pulled her into his embrace. Another shiver shot across her back as he buried his hand in the tangles of her hair.

The sensible voice in her mind kept shouting that Jack was so inebriated he probably would have kissed anything that stood still long enough. But her heart ached at the moment and took what comfort his kiss gave. His hand moved to her face, cupping it in his warmth. This last movement reminded her forcefully of what they were doing and with difficulty, she turned her face away. Jack's mouth was so pouty that she couldn't stop her quiet laughter.

"Wha' s'matter, luv? Why'd you stop?"

"You're drunk, Jack."

He grinned. "Of course, darling. I've been drinking." He went for her mouth again, but hit her ear instead because she'd jerked her face away at the last second.

"Come on, Jack," she said, putting her arm around his waist and forcing him to walk.

"Where you taking me, luv?" He asked, leaning heavily against her.

"To your cabin, of course."

"Care to 'elp me sleep it off?" he asked impishly.

"Heavens no, Jack. I just want to make sure the captain won't fall off his own ship."

With relief they reached his cabin where Evy deposited him on his bunk, which he immediately slipped off of and landed hard on the floor. She made no move to help him up. As long as he was in his cabin and not overboard was good enough for her. As she stepped away, his fingers closed over her wrist.

"That kiss wasn't so bad," he slurred. "Want to 'ave another go?"

"No."

"Why not, luv? Yours is really a very pretty mouth."

"Thanks, but I've had enough."

"Enough what?"

Evy nearly shouted at him for being such a dunce. That kiss had nothing to do with her, but had everything to with that bloody rum.

"Nothing, Jack," she said with forced calm. "Just sleep it off."

"Why not give me something to remember you by?"

Evy snorted. "Jack, you and I both know that you won't remember any of this in the morning."

"'ow do you know that, miss smarty pants?"

"Because of the rum in that kiss. That's what made you do it. The rum."

She threw his hand off and stalked out of the cabin, furious with Jack, but more furious with herself for wishing that Jack had kissed her without the aid of the alcohol.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Other Pirate Ship

Evy's days became very busy. With a pirate crew's appetite to tend to, she was occupied completely. Peggy seemed to get used to her quickly, giving Evy the impression that he'd really been in need of help. He limped slowly about as the crew impatiently waited to be fed, though they didn't push him too hard because he was liable to take a swing at them with his walking stick. The loud smack of a wood tended to be an everyday occurrence in the galley.

Most of the time, Evy made him sit down with the others while she fixed him a plate and set it down in front of him. He'd smile at her, making each and every line in his brown face fold, bend, and crease. It had been a little frightening at first to see his five, crooked teeth smiling at her—it looked more like a contorted scowl. The old sailor probably hadn't smiled much in his day.

She was getting fonder of him as the days passed and she didn't miss some of the kindly looks he sent her way. He'd even taught her a song that she often sang to herself as she cooked.

"We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot. Drink up me hearties, yo ho! Yo ho! Yo ho! A pirate's life for me….."

The yearning for their home in Nassau was surprisingly not there. It had been a shock of course to suddenly climb on board a ship full of pirates, but she felt oddly settled. She was feeling at home aboard the _Pearl_; one other thing she hated Jack for. He'd been right. Again. Bloody pirate.

Evy would never admit to anything, especially not to Jack, but she was happy. If it weren't for her duties, she'd probably be pining for her home, but as it was, she looked forward to rising with the sun and feeding the crew. Her mother appeared to like it as much, but wouldn't admit to anything either, but they often shared smiles throughout the day, though her mother's was still a bit sad. Emerson, of course, was no longer a man searching for his life. He'd found it at sea, so he had said one morning after she and her mother had finished cleaning the galley.

Her mother's face stiffened, but she smiled nevertheless. "I suppose then," she said, voice a touch strained, "that when this is all over, you'll be staying aboard the _Pearl_?"

Emerson looked away guiltily, but his voice didn't waver when he spoke. "If Captain Sparrow will have me."

"There are worse things I suppose," she said, "Though at the moment, I can't think of any."

Emerson laughed. "Well, pirates are not exactly respected citizens of the community, but they're not all murdering buccaneers."

"Just thieves," Evy added. "Marauding fiends, liars, drunks..."

"Yeah, you'd know all about a drunken pirate wouldn't you?" he asked, raising his eyebrows knowingly.

Evy gaped at her brother's twinkling eyes. "No, I'm afraid I don't," she said snootily, avoiding her mother's suspicious glance.

"Ah, well. My mistake then," he said casually, drifting away from them.

"What was all that about?" demanded Mum.

Evy was already proven to be a bad liar in her mother's presence so there was no point in attempting it. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, however, at the thought of revealing everything to her mother.

"Evy, what did he mean about Jack?"

"Jack kissed me," she said, hiding her face behind her hair.

"That so?"

"I can't imagine how Em knew. He must have been on deck," she said idly.

"Care to tell me anything else?" she asked keenly.

"There is nothing else," she insisted. "Just a kiss caused by rum."

"Is there any other kiss when it comes to Jack?" she smirked.

"No, he obviously doesn't know another way," she grated, noting the cynicism in her own tone and wondering how it had gotten there so fast.

"Well, if you expect nothing else of Jack, then why are you upset?" she pressed.

"Because I—" Evy broke off.

"What?" Mum prompted expectantly.

"Well..." she began, nervously tapping her fingers against her thigh. "It was because he was drunk."

Mum smiled understandingly. "You would rather something other than rum made him kiss you."

Evy shrugged, not willing to relent to that out loud. Mum snickered.

"I don't see what's so funny," she said, offended.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. You're right, but I know how you feel. I married a pirate, remember? If a woman knows how fickle they can be, then _I _am that woman."

"Was Dad horrible with all that pirate business?"

"He didn't treat me like a common wench of Tortuga, if that's what you mean."

"That's something, isn't it?"

"Yes, but Evy dear, Jack is...different."

"Too different," she agreed. "He doesn't care about anything except this ship. Or his blasted rum," she added.

"I didn't mean different in a bad way. Just _different_."

"Maybe, but he was still acting solely on the effects of intoxication," she spat, eying said pirate evilly. Jack was too busy yelling orders to notice her.

"There's always next time," Mum reminded her.

"There won't be a next time. I'm not letting that swine near my lips again."

Mum laughed heartily. "Oh, the irony!"

"Why?" she asked uneasily.

"I said something very similar about your father."

Evy looked sharply at her mother. "Why on earth did you marry him, then?"

"Because I loved him of course," she said reasonably. "And, well...I let him kiss me again. Those blue eyes were hard to resist."

"Just because Jack happens to have striking eyes doesn't mean anything."

"Oh? So you have noticed? I was beginning to think you never would."

"Yes, he _is_ eye-catching. You mentioned that already."

"Well?"

"Well…he's not hideous—exactly," she admitted reluctantly. "But what exactly is the point of this?"

She smiled knowingly. "I think you like Jack. You _do_ complain about him all the time."

Evy shrugged uncomfortably. "I wouldn't say it was like. I've just gotten used to him, is all."

"Isn't it strange how similar our situations are?"

"I don't see anything similar about them," she said, folding her arms stubbornly.

"All joking aside, Evy," she went on, "He is a pirate and far from being a saint, but he _is_ a good man. He could have chosen to let your father swing from the gallows, but he chose to help him because they are friends."

Try as she might, Evy didn't really hate Jack. He'd come a long way to save her father's life. Jack acted as though he was the very definition of miscreant, but why then, _did_ he save her father's life unless there was some good in him?

"Thought you said I'd be in for a world of trouble if I gave my heart away to a pirate."

"Not just a pirate, any man for that matter, but pirates tend to make life interesting."

"Well it's a good thing I'm not _interested_."

Later that night, Evy should have realized that the conversation with her mother was the beginning of one disaster after another. As she was preparing the food, shouts carried through the door from the deck above.

"Eh?" cried Peggy. "What be the un'oly racket?"

Not one second later, something rammed into the hull, pitching the ship forward, launching Evy and Peggy across the room. Both cried out in pain as their bodies slammed into the hard wall. The ship violently shook, wood creaking under the strain. Neither of them dared move until it was safe to do so.

"Peggy, what's big enough in the ocean to do that?"

Emerson caught the flailing rope that had come loose and tightened it fast. He wiggled it to make sure it was tight enough and then pulled again just to satisfy himself.

"We're getting close," he whispered to himself.

Rain had only just stopped falling, but the clouds remained. Moonlight had left them nearly an hour ago and taken the stars with it. Crew members about him whispered nervously to each other. Some tightened their grips on the guns at their belts. The reason for their fearful eyes was all too clear.

The sails of the _Black Pearl_ gave one last flutter before coming to a still. There was no wind to rustle the heavy black canvas, but the ship moved onward, guided by the mysterious waters in which they'd just arrived.

Without help from the stars and moon, there was no way to know if the island was near. Emerson looked over his shoulder to Jack. The captain stood at his wheel, eyes fixed to the bow, steady and looking ready for what the darkness brought.

"Does anyone else 'ere tha'?" said a crewmember, eyes wildly searching the sky.

Emerson did hear it. Hundreds of whispering voices weaved through the air, echoing together in an eerie cacophony. Try as he might, he couldn't understand what the voices were saying. The crew shouted in fear, ducking their heads as though expecting to be attacked from the air. One man fired his pistol straight up, the misty fog splitting apart as the bullet collided with the thin air, but the whispering didn't cease.

The ship suddenly pitched forward, tossing them headfirst toward the bow. The breath knocked out of him, Emerson grunted with pain as the back of his head collided with the wood. The ship crashed back down against the water, drenching them all in the dark, salty water.

A great roar from beneath the waves silenced all the men, and then a mad rush to follow Jack ensued as he ran to look over the side. Emerson shoved his way through the crowd just as a long scaly black body that seemed to go on forever, disappeared back from whence it came.

Gibbs smacked the rail hard. "Didn't I say it? Didn't I say it, Jack? 'aving women aboard a ship is the worst kind o' luck there is!"

"Not just the wenches," said another, "But we be in cursed waters! Evil spirits and creatures of the deep be upon us."

"We're doomed!"

"Probably," Jack agreed, still staring at the water. "But there is a light at the end of the tunnel, gentlemen."

"'eaven?" asked one hopefully.

"Gold of course," answered Jack, as though surprised the man didn't know the obvious answer.

Though Emerson was listening to the men as they talked, he'd been watching the darkness that lay ahead of the bow. There was something strange about the horizon. It whipped about like the sail of a ship. His eyes widened as what indeed was a sail blew straight up to reveal sharp, craggy rocks.

Emerson ran straight for the helm, leaping up the stairs and yanked the wheel starboard, once again tossing the crew across the deck. The _Pearl_ missed the rocks by mere inches. The reason for the oddity of the horizon's appearance was made clear.

The remainder of a ship's sails lay shredded across the rocks along with debris that littered the water. They'd found the island and the other pirate ship. The skull and crossbones flag floated in the lonely water, fallen and tattered, the only evidence that it had ever flown aboard a ship.

Jack looked over his shoulder to the _Pearl_, which was anchored a good distance from the island. He'd taken a handful of his crew aboard a skiff to scout the island for survivors. The uneasiness had started once he'd left the ship behind. He kept glancing at his most prized possession, but then remembered the treasure that lay ahead.

Not too far down the beach, young Dawes was showing his sister the basics of loading and firing a pistol. The little monster had decided to tag along with her brother in search of the treasure. Evy was starting to remind Jack of Will Turner. The lad too, had hated pirates with a deep seated passion, but in the end, changed his mind. She'd despised everything about pirates, it seemed, and until having spent numerous time with them— something Jack took all the credit for. Evy had decided to accompany them, claiming she was looking out for her brother's well-being, but Jack wasn't the greatest pirate for nothing. Treasure was enough to wet anyone's appetite to go searching for it.

The island was vast, covered in dense groves of palm trees and monstrous rock cliffs the size of mountains. It would take weeks to comb the island thoroughly, weeks they didn't have. The only sensible solution would be to split up and search.

"Aye, Cap'n. That be a good plan," agreed Gibbs. "Just so's I don't end up with the woman."

Evy scowled back at the pirate.

"I wouldn't dream of dealing you the 'and of misfortune, Mr. Gibbs," Jack assured, grinning at her as he spoke. "Therefore, _I _will make the sacrifice for the good of the crew and pair meself with the lady."

"Now hold on—" she started.

"I'll go with you too, Captain," offered Emerson, effectively shutting his sister up.

"I s'pose that'll do," she conceded, throwing Jack a dirty look.

"Right, then. Mr. Cotton, you're with Gibbs. Emerson and the lady are with me. When you find the treasure, fire a shot into the air and we'll meet you there."

The pirates split up, each man eager for the search, but wary of the alien surroundings. Jack grinned at his pair.

"Shall we?" He placed his arm around Evy and pulled her along. "What will you do with your share of the treasure, darling?"

Evy stared at his arm with disgust, but she held her tongue. "I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead."

Jack frowned. He'd been hoping to get a rise out of her. She'd been keeping her distance from him since that kiss and controlling that blasted temper. Yes, he remembered everything. Their conversation and her tears and that bloody good kiss. He'd been unable to stop thinking about that kiss. Evy had been wandering around his mind and it was really starting to annoy. A lot about Evy was annoying. Foremost, that mouth—though she did kiss very well with it—had been unusually quiet. In fact, she hadn't said one word to him. Why couldn't she follow their usual routine of shouting? Typical of a woman to change things up on a man just when he was getting used to everything.

"What about you, Jack? What will you waste all that treasure on?"

"Actually, I was thinking of starting me own 'arem. That way I wouldn't 'ave to drop you in some foreign country you're not used to. You could be best friends with this pirate sheik for life, savvy?"

Behind them, Emerson snickered. For a moment, and it was barely that long, she looked him in the eye. Jack was a little startled to see no anger, but something akin to disappointment. The openness in her eyes disappeared behind windows of long black lashes as she lowered her face.

She moved away from him, vaguely saying, "I count the days."

Deep in the jungles of the island, Tarrington waited with the four remaining crewmembers of the wrecked pirate ship, including Captain Strongman. As far as he knew, three days had gone by, but without the sun to pinpoint his location, Tarrington wasn't sure. The sun tended to switch positions on this island when he least expected it. Not that he could even see the sky.

The expanse of blue was currently concealed by a cage of bamboo covered in jungle greenery. Shafts of sunlight had managed to break through, reminding him that the sun still rose and set. But barely a breath later, the light cut off. The sun had moved again, as it had been doing several times an hour. After three days of this oddity, Tarrington still hadn't got used to it.

There were a lot of things that confused a man whose beliefs were rooted in the logical. Yet he had seen the giant sea creature attack the ship, coiling its massive body over the hull and crushing it with little effort. Most of the crew went down with the sinking vessel. Others were devoured by jaws full of razor sharp teeth the length of sabers.

Tarrington floated in the water, waiting for the turn that never came. The ocean stretched into an endless blue canvas, but he blinked and there was suddenly a colossal island right in front of him, materializing out of nothing. In the distance, the few remaining crewmembers swam toward the beach.

As survival training was a necessary branch of every soldier's life, he'd taken charge. That idiot Strongman had found it necessary to offer his expertise as well. He'd thrown a tantrum worthy of a four-year-old.

"That was my ship sunk! But I'm still captain and I'm in charge of this crew!" he said angrily, stamping his foot in the damp sand.

"All right, then. What do you propose we do about our current misfortune?" he asked, thoroughly enjoying the little man's bulging eyes.

"Well, I...ahem," he cleared his throat nervously, "We should, I suppose..." Strongman snapped his jaw shut and drew himself up, attempting to show dignity. "As captain, it is my duty to accept advice from my crewmembers if they've got any useful ideas."

"Very well, then," he said, bowing his head graciously. "First, we need to make a shelter and then gather everything that appears edible, as our food supply is now gone."

"What of the treasure?"

"We'll leave at dawn tomorrow."

For all their intentions to leave at dawn, they never got the chance. The position of the sun made it impossible to gauge when dawn would break. Just as he'd guessed it was nearing noon, the light dimmed, as though night were about to fall. The sun now hung in the western sky.

"Impossible," he murmured to himself.

"You'll get used to it," said a voice from behind.

He whipped around to find a spear in his face. They were surrounded by a ring of torches and glinting spears. Their faces were hidden behind veils. Dark eyes glared back at them so viciously that Tarrington expected to have a spear in chest before long.

"Does the sun often move?" he asked politely, hoping to keep diplomacy with the attackers.

"You were not given permission to speak, slave," said one silkily, "If you wish to keep your entrails tonight, then I suggest you shut up."

Bound and gagged, Tarrington and pirates were roughly pushed through the trees and if one fell, they did not stop to help him up. He was dragged the rest of the way. Before he could attempt diplomacy again, all five of them were pushed into a pit.

After three days, they were still sitting in the pit. Presumably, their kidnappers were deciding what to do with them. Footsteps passed by occasionally, but no word was spoken and no food was dropped down to them. After being food deprived for three days, Tarrington had had enough. Just as he was about to open his mouth, their cage door was open and one more joined the ranks. A man.

He too, was bound by the hands. He was young and sported a bloody nose, but didn't look injured otherwise. As he sat up and looked around, his eyebrows rose.

"Hello," he said conversationally, "Name's Emerson. Been here long?"

"Three days," answered Tarrington. "No food, no water. Our captors are brutish fiends."

"Savages more like," said Captain Strongman.

"I think they're worse than that," he said, chuckling.

"These savages 'ave starved us for three days, threatened to cut out our entrails and 'aven't said what our crime is," said the captain. "What could be worse than that?"

"A tribe of ruthless _women_ who starved you for three days and threatened disembowelment."

"They're women?" Tarrington asked in astonishment.

"Yep," the young lad confirmed, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

"See what you mean by worse," said the captain, glancing fearfully at their bamboo roof.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Hello everyone. Sorry it's been a while. Writer's block is the bane of all who enjoy writing. I had a very bad case of it. Hopefully, this won't happen again. Though I doubt it. Please enjoy.

Chapter 9: Alone With a Pirate

Evy, Jack and Emerson traveled single file and had nothing to show for it, accept that they were lost thanks to the jumping sun. It was now dark, whereas minutes ago, the sun had hung in the sky. Her brother had a compass, but the needle jumped to all four points at random. It felt to Evy they'd been going in circles ever since their search began. Her feet ached with each step and her arms and face were scratched from the thick bramble.

Ahead, Jack still led the way, undaunted by the strangeness of the island.

Evy hung back with her brother because there was something she needed settled.

"How did you know?"

Emerson smirked. Apparently, he didn't have to ask what she meant. "I was on deck. So that means at least four—maybe five—other crewmembers know; if they were looking too."

Evy groaned. "Perfect."

He started snickering until she swatted him. "It's not funny, Em."

"No, it really is," he countered, rubbing the sore spot on his arm. "All these years you've hated pirates and now you're kissing one."

"It was just once and it won't happen again." Evy felt that by saying this over and over again that it would be true.

"Why shouldn't it?" Emerson's question wasn't snappish, but of genuine confusion.

"Because a drunken pirate would not be a smart match," she said sensibly.

"Who said anything about being smart? If it's smart, then it's boring. Lifeless."

Evy shook her head. "This is pointless anyway."

"Why?" he asked again. "Jack's a good man."

"Everyone keeps saying that."

"Because it's true," he insisted.

"All right," she conceded. "Let's say it is true, how long would it last before he got bored? And—" she continued even though he'd opened his mouth to say something, "Who says he cares more about me than what the rum makes him care?"

To this, Emerson remained silent, and to Evy, this proved her point. This conversation held no weight for the future. Jack was not the kind of man to be tied down by anyone, especially a woman.

"He has no room in his mind for anything except the _Pearl_," she said finally, "Least of all me."

She hurried away from Emerson to hush anything else he might have said and caught up with the pirate.

"You seem to know your way around, Jack."

"Been here before, luv."

"Then why is it that we appear to be heading in circles?" she asked, eying a tree they'd passed at least three times in the past hour.

"If you 'aven't noticed, this island likes to play tricks on unsuspecting visitors."

"So you know exactly where we're headed?" she questioned dubiously.

"As I've said before, darling, this is not the first time I've been 'ere."

"Then why didn't you take the treasure before?" she asked, perplexed that a pirate would leave behind his only reason for living.

"Local inhabitants were not agreeable to any deals."

Her eyes widened in alarm. "You mean...savage people?"

Jack grinned secretively in a way she didn't like. "That I do."

"Is a bit of gold really worth your life?"

"Oh, they didn't threaten me life. Just threatened to cut off every appendage on me person is all."

"That's all? Of course. Nothing to be upset about," she grated sarcastically. "Did the _local inhabitants_ by any chance warn you to never return?"

"Absolutely, luv," he confirmed, "But I am a man who never takes idle threats seriously."

"Cutting off every appendage on your body sounds more than idle, Jack," she argued.

He waved away her words impatiently. "I'm not that easy to kill, luv. Savvy?"

"But Jack, you're not invincible," she said reasonably. She huffed to keep up with his hurried pace and settled for trotting at his side.

"Says who?" Oddly enough, he looked truly offended. "I've escaped more perilous situations than we've time to converse over, darling."

"All it takes is one lucky shot," she insisted.

Jack stopped to look at her, trinkets clinking; the sash around his waist was blowing in the breeze. He cocked his head to one side as he regarded her confused face with a grin bright enough to compete with the sun.

"I must admit, darling," he drawled, "you 'ad me fooled."

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, completely dumbfounded.

"That cold almost brutal exterior of yours is just a front to your _true_ feelings," he said with maddening superiority.

"Such as?"

"You, luv, are worried."

"About?"

"Yours truly," he replied smugly, pointing two greasy fingers at himself.

"Why on earth would I be worried about you?" she scoffed.

"Me life is in danger due to the treacherous environment and all you can think about is getting me safely back to the _Pearl_ with all still-attached appendages in tow."

Evy's mouth nearly fell open in shock, but grit her teeth hard. She'd once thought that Jack could read minds. Now she was convinced he really had that ability. She _was_ worried and hated herself for caring about this wretched pirate that had somehow wormed his way into her every thought, and _disgustingly_, into her heart.

"I most certainly am not," she lied, making sure to keep eye contact.

"You don't 'ave to pretend anymore, darling." He took a step closer to her, tracing his fingers across her cheek. It took every ounce of her willpower not to shiver. "Just admit that you care 'bout me."

She once again took up the path that he'd been following. "Do not," she argued childishly.

He caught up and slipped an arm around her, fingers curling over her shoulder. "Can't say I blame you. I am rather dashing, don't you think? Only a matter of time before you fell 'ead over 'eels, eh?"

As she could think of nothing to say without screaming, she ignored him, slapping his arm off her shoulder in the process. Undaunted, he trotted round in front of her, barring her from continuing.

"Move!" she snapped.

"Time on this island is a bit odd. It's not as though we're in a rush, luv," he pointed out.

"Well I am. The sooner we find the bloody treasure, the sooner I can get away from you."

She attempted to shove him aside and nearly made it, but he clasped her hand and swung her around until she was back in his arms and kissed her with deliberate slowness. Though she'd been thinking almost nonstop about that kiss the other night, she was not in the mood for one now. Evy pushed him back and slapped him with all her might. To her satisfaction, an angry red print matching her throbbing hand appeared on his cheek.

Rubbing his new injury, he pouted. "Didn't deserve that."

"Oh no?" she countered. "Can you tell me why exactly?"

"It's a dangerous island, luv. Our lives may soon be forfeit."

"How does that warrant unnecessary kissing?"

"Just trying to make every last moment we have count for something memorable, darling."

"Aren't you just full of brilliant ideas?" she said acidly.

He grinned. "Aye, they're my specialty. That and my spectacular kissing; as you well know by now." Jack wiggled his eyebrows. "We could keep living life to the fullest and 'ave a bit of fun as well. You know...kill two birds with one stone, eh?"

Jack tilted his head down to hers again, but she leaned back. "I've had enough _fun_ for one day."

"Don't you like to 'ave fun, Evy?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, but I don't like _your_ kind of fun."

"You need to live a little, missy. My kind of fun allows for so many _new _experiences," he said, eyes glazing a bit as he recalled some of his so-called new experiences.

"You already kissed me once before so your experience is not new."

"Did I?" he asked in mild and uninterested surprise. "I don't remember."

"Of course you don't because you'd swallowed an ocean-sized amount of rum!"

"The best friend of every pirate," he agreed, searching through his pockets and frowning when he could find no 'best friend' within.

"Your only friend," she corrected snappishly.

This didn't appear to faze Jack. "Piracy is about business, luv, not friendship."

"Then you're definitely an accomplished businessman, Jack."

"You wouldn't be deliberately trying to 'urt me feelings, would you Evy?"

"What feelings? You can't even remember kissing me!"

"There've been lots of kisses." He smirked suddenly and laughed. "Oh yeah—I remember this one—"

"Shut up, Jack!" she yelled. "I don't want to hear about any of it."

Evy'd had enough. She tromped forward, crushing branches, slapping away at leafy vines and not paying attention to where she was going. The flat ground soon gave way to the steepest incline yet and she slipped a few times—anger making her clumsy. A firm grip on her forearm pulled her the rest of the way up to the rocky slope of the mountains in the center of the island. She ignored his existence by her side and pressed on, determined not to stop long enough for conversation. He wasn't going to let her get away with that unfortunately.

Jack watched Evy with amusement. "Do you know where your 'eaded, luv?"

Without any word or look, she kept going up. To his annoyance, it _was_ the right way. Two problems faced them. The strange course the sun followed could envelope them in darkness without warning and going up the mountain at night would probably kill them both. As dangerous as rock climbing would be in the dark, that wasn't what worried Jack. The peak of the mountain—where the insurmountable treasure waited—was also the residence of the barbarian tribe. Stealing it outright was out of the question. He glanced at Evy. She eyed the long way up with well concealed trepidation. Her eyes drifted across the rocks, obviously searching for a path.

"It's the only way up," he said quietly, answering the question she hadn't asked.

Squaring her shoulders, she marched onward, having ignored him completely and irking his usually fluidic demeanor. It wasn't protocol for a crewman to ignore his captain; or crew_woman_ in this case, which explained her inability to submit to authority. That being, the urge to pick at the festering wound was too great an opportunity to pass up.

"Couldn't we start over, Evy?" he asked kindly.

Though she still ignored him, her head turned slightly to the side. He took this as a sign to continue. "Perhaps a truce? I can see you're a strong-willed woman capable of making sound decisions." Nothing but the wind answered. "Giving the captain silent treatment isn't ship's protocol."

She tutted, but said nothing. He could see her biting her lip as though putting every reserve of strength she possessed towards not answering. Just a bit more needling and she'd no doubt kill him just to keep from having to speak to him again. He hooked their arms together tightly so when she jerked back, she stumbled and had to grab him with her other hand to keep from toppling down the mountainside. She wrung her arm about to free it, but he just tightened his grip, effectively pinning her arm to his side.

"Jack..." she began, attempting and failing to be sweet. The snarl on her lips prevented any kind of sweet countenance. "I'm perfectly capable of climbing on my own."

"To be sure, but we need to stay together. I can't afford to lose ship's superb cook."

"Why?"

"Because, darling as you 'ave obviously not noticed, we're being followed." Her eyes widened. "Oh! And your dear Emerson is no longer in our cheerful party."

Evy stopped short. "What?" Panic filling her eyes, she spun round, but he jerked back.

"Don't!" he warned. "Just keep going."

"But what about Emerson? We can't just leave him out there alone."

"Your brother is not alone, luv. They've already got 'im."

"How do you know?"

"Because he disappeared 'bout the time our friends showed up."

"You knew we were being followed?" she said angrily.

"Course."

"And you let them take my brother?"

She grabbed his arm and clamped so tightly he thought his bone would snap. Jack reconsidered his plan to irritate her since she looked ready to push him over the cliff.

"They won't kill him," he said, attempting reassurance. "They didn't kill me. They'll probably just torture 'im is all."

"Well don't I feel better now?" she spat. He flinched when she pointed an angry finger in his face. "If anything happens to him, I'll personally hand you over to the tribe _without_ your appendages."

Evy shoved him off and began running up the rocky incline. Jack rolled his eyes, but ran after her anyway.

"You can't just 'asten to 'is rescue like a bull in a china cabinet, luv!" he yelled up.

"You have any better ideas?" she snapped back.

"As a matter o' fact, luv, I've always got a better idea."

Before he could share his plan, the sunlight suddenly vanished, as did their path. No moonlight replaced what was taken. Too many clouds covered the sky. The path before them was too dark to see. Judging by Evy's yelp and the sound of sliding rocks, she'd fallen.

"Careful, Evy! You falling off would ruin my plan!"

"It's a bit late for that, Jack!"

He was afraid to ask, but hurried up after her. She'd not only fallen, but had slid halfway over the slide of the cliff. Jack grabbed her hands.

"Now what'd you go and do that for?" he asked, starting to pull her up.

Before he could get a good grip, he lost his footing under the loose gravel and went toppling over the side, managing to jab his hand into a small crevice. With the other, he still held onto to a dangling Evy.

"You were saying?" she asked sarcastically.

"Please be quiet so I can think," he grumbled.

"Think of something fast because I'm slipping."

"Now there's an idea," he said delightedly. "'Cept I'm slipping too. Bugger, luv! 'ow much do you weigh?"

With a growl, she stretched toward the rocks and grabbed onto a thick vine that grew from the side of the mountain. Faster than he believed she could, Evy'd made it to the top. Jack now used both hands to steady himself and was about to reach for the vine when she jerked it out of his reach.

"I need that, luv!"

"Not so heavy am I, considering I got myself up here and you're _still_ down there," she said tauntingly.

"Yes, yes, all right. You're light as a feather. You could fly as the birds do...now, will you please give me that vine?"

Without a word, she tossed it to him and stood there watching him struggle his way up. Only when the roots of the vine started unraveling from the earth in which they were buried, did she take his hands and pull him the rest of the way.

"Thought you didn't care," he said, rubbing his grazed palms.

"I don't," she said coldly. "But since you've been here before, I can't afford to lose my guide."

"I'm all warm and fuzzy inside, luv."

She ignored him and squinted up the dark path. "I suppose we'll have to wait for the sun to show up."

"Unfortunately for us, its appearances are random. It could appear within ten seconds or ten hours."

"Terrific. What do propose we do?"

"Stay 'ere for the night, as far away from the edge as possible."

Even though it _was_ dark, he could still make out some features on her face and she looked none too pleased. Obviously the idea of spending the night alone with him revolted her. Funny, that this bothered him a little. He was used to women giving him that same revolted look time and again, but on Evy it looked terrible.

"Guess we don't have any choice then," she said dolefully.

Jack led the way to an indention in the mountain. He'd sheltered here once before. It wasn't large enough to be called a cave as it was only about five feet deep, but it was enough to protect them until the sun decided to show itself.

Emerson had begun to feel that he was intruding and quickly left his sister and the pirate behind. Out of habit he kept checking his compass and watched as the needle spun in an endless circle. Just as they'd been doing ever since they arrived on the island. One confusing circle after another and it was leading him deeper into paths never walked.

He glanced over his shoulder, but the shore had long since disappeared, taking all manner of jungle noise with it and leaving him alone in the middle of nowhere. He briefly thought about heading back to find the beach, but according his father and Jack, there was treasure here. The desire to push on was more for the benefit of his mother and sister than for a selfish need. If they were to have any kind of life away from the one they'd had in Nassau, then they would need all the gold he could find.

For hours Jack had led them towards the center of the island—steep and unfriendly rocks that resembled small mountains. After what he'd seen done to the other pirate ship, he had no doubt that a slip on one of the sharp cliffs would slice him to ribbons. He looked back over his shoulder, the trees seemed denser, as though closing off the path should he entertain the notion of escaping the way he came.

Superstition of the unnatural hadn't been part of his upbringing, but since he'd seen that thing in the water, he was considering revising his beliefs. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, sending a shiver rippling down his body. Though none were visible, he felt hostile eyes staring at his exposed back. When he stopped walking, his pursuers stopped. Emerson wasn't easily given over to panic, but not being able to see what was out there caused his heart to beat with unease.

Even though it was a long shot, he took off at breakneck speed, shoving aside the sharp branches and vines. The unmistakable stomps of pursuit followed, missing no steps and gaining ground. Just as he switched directions unexpectedly to hopefully fool them, they changed to match his new path. It was a game they were playing to get him deeper into the core of the island.

Then suddenly coming from every direction, a strange high-pitched cry blasted through the trees behind him. It was only a matter of time before he was caught, but he wasn't about to give up. A stinging pain erupted in his neck. He slapped a hand to the burning skin and pulled out a tiny, feathered barb. The pungent odor of poison caused him to stumble. The taste of dirt in his mouth surprised him. He'd fallen to the ground, but crawled across the leaves and the dirt, determined to fight to the last. Something hard pressed into the middle of his back and roughly tied his hands together, while another bound his feet.

At least six pairs of dirty feet gathered around to hoist him up and carried him off. To his surprise, he never lost consciousness, but as he attempted to struggle free of the ropes, his arms and legs grew stiff. The barb had not been an attempt to drug him, but a means to cease his mobility. Moments later he was paralyzed, but aware of his surroundings.

He tried to memorize the route along which he was being carted, but his captors twisted along so many paths that he quickly lost count his bearings. There were too many trees identical to the previous ones. Not one word was spoken to him or to each other. Being unable to move his head, he saw nothing but the thick grass beneath his face. He couldn't even close his eyes. Of interest, the grass disappeared and the terrain grew rocky. With renewed excitement, he realized the ground now sloped upward. The captors were taking him towards the rocks.

Emerson wasn't stupid though. Escaping alive was probably unlikely, but it was a worth a shot anyway. As they descended further, his legs began to tingle painfully, as though he'd been sitting on them for too long. It was a relief to finally feel _something_ after being paralyzed so long. Within seconds, his entire body was tingling as the effects wore off.

With an abrupt jerk, he was on his feet standing at the mouth of a dark pit covered by a bamboo cage. A sharp weapon poked his back, halting everything he thought of saying.

"Filthy swine of man, you have trespassed on our island," said a chilling feminine voice behind him, "For this crime, you are sentenced to eternal imprisonment."

Emerson spun fast, intending to argue, but shut his mouth when every face glaring back at him proved to be female.

"You're women!" he said, astounded.

"Clever man. Perhaps there is hope for your gender yet," snarled the tallest of the group circled around him.

"Where—"

But Emerson never got the chance to ask his question. The tall woman slugged him so hard in the nose he fell over backward into the dark pit.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Piracy Is Contagious

After having nervously paced the deck ever since her daughter and son left for the island, Evanna had worried herself to the point of exhaustion. The bright sun burned her ears and the back of her neck and she kept brushing away the sweat adorning her brow. She'd long given up pacing and stood staring at nothing but the desolate ocean. Since arriving in these accursed waters, oddities had plagued the ship's crew. The creature continued to follow them, raising its massive body just a fraction above the waves. Occasionally, a pair of gleaming gold eyes stared tauntingly at the ship before sinking back into its dark home.

A gigantic sea creature was not what concerned the distraught mother, however. The sun had been disappearing and reappearing at random, enveloping them in sudden black to midday sunshine. The darkness had taken the island with it. When the sun was back overhead, the island was gone and nothing but the ocean had surrounded the ship.

Since then the sun had burned its unforgiving heat onto the _Pearl_ crew and robbed them of their shipmates.

"What'll we do?"

The question was directed to Jimmy, as the first mate Gibbs was lost on the island and the crew now looked to him for advice.

"What do you mean, 'what'll we do?'" he asked sharply. "Stay 'ere o' course till the island reappears."

"Aye," agreed another, "Unless the sea demon swallows us first."

"Then it'll swallow us!" Evanna cried suddenly. All heads turned to gape at her. "We're waiting right here until we see that island again. Understood?!"

Astonished faces stared at her and then at each other. Most had deemed she and her daughter unlucky additions to the crew, though her murderous glare drifted over the crowd like cold water. Some of them shivered.

"You 'eard the lady!" shouted Jimmy. "Back to work!"

The crew bumped into each other as they scrambled off to return to their duties. Evanna returned her gaze to the water. It was still void of all land.

"They're all right," said Jimmy from beside her.

"You don't know that," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "No, I don't, but I know Emerson and I know Evy. They've got a lot of their mum in them."

"And their father too," she said with a tiny smile.

"Best of both worlds, I'd say," he agreed with a smirk. "Don't worry."

"Mothers always worry."

"I know," he said softly, "But they're half-pirate too and we pirates are survivors."

Evy settled against the hard rock wall, wincing as the sharp points dug uncomfortably into her back. Jack meanwhile seemed to be asleep already. He'd stretched out, feet crossed at the ankle and had pulled his hat down over his eyes. It was irritating how calm he was, taking everything in stride as though it was a holiday trip.

"The longer you fidget, luv, the more sleep I lose."

"My heart breaks for your discomfort," she said dryly.

He pushed his hat back to look at her. "Finding it difficult to relax, darling?"

"Rocks are not exactly soft," she answered, sitting up in defeat.

Jack propped himself up on one arm and traced a finger down her arm. "I'm soft and warm too," he said huskily, sitting up and inching closer. "A little snuggle could warm that chilled skin."

She picked up the hand that had lightly dropped onto her knee and returned it. "No, thank you."

"You're still sore 'bout me not remembering that _other_ kiss, aren't you luv?"

"It is a bit insulting to a woman when a man can't remember kissing her, Jack."

He grinned lopsidedly. "Care to refresh my memory?"

"Not on your life," she said with a laugh.

"Oh, but darling, you've enjoyed my fabulous kisses."

"Beg your pardon?" she asked, amazed that he seemed to grow more arrogant as the days passed.

"As we did share a passionate kiss naught but a few 'ours ago that I _do_ remember, I knowledgeably speak from experience."

"You arrogant pillock. If you'll recall, I slapped you because I do not enjoy kissing you."

"Sure you do, luv."

"And what makes you say that with such confidence, Jack?"

"Because the tiniest fraction before your lovely hand flew through the air like a cannonball...you...kissed me...back. _Savvy_?"

"Fine," she conceded. "I did kiss you back. So what?"

"So, you liked it and you want more and I'm 'appy to oblige."

"You're imagining things."

"I beg to differ, luv."

"Differ all you want, Jack. You're just afraid that there is _one_ woman in the world immune to your unique charms."

"And you're afraid to admit that you like kissing the handsomest pirate on the ocean."

"Yes, I just love the smell of rum in my face," she said sarcastically.

"My favorite aroma," he said wistfully, digging through his pockets again. "There's never enough rum to go around."

Evy slipped a hand into her coat pocket and produced his favorite beverage. She'd felt it might be a necessary item to carry along at all times when in Jack's company. It was only a small flask, but it was better than nothing.

With a gleeful smile, he took the proffered drink. "I'm beginning to like you more and more everyday, darling."

"Captain Jack Sparrow likes me! Oh, I can die happy now!" she said facetiously.

"Lucky you are, girl."

She snatched the flask back. "That's all I've got, Jack. Best save the rest for later."

"If someone were to cut you," she said offhandedly, "You'd bleed nothing _but_ rum."

"'ate to bleed anything else, Evy luv."

"It's not as if it makes any difference to you, anyway," she muttered, picking at a vine growing through cracks in the rock.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Kissing me," she supplied.

"'ow would you know, darling?"

"Because I'm merely a woman in your endless line of women. Shoulder to shoulder, we'd probably circle the earth twice."

"Aye! Pride meself on that one," he said, grin so wide his face nearly split.

"You would! Never give us a second thought. You kiss us and move onto the next trollop."

"Working so far," he said shrugging. "Why upset the apple cart, eh?"

"You are absolutely the most bloody frustrating man I've ever had the misfortune to encounter," she said tiredly, leaning against the rough rock despite its prickly fingers.

He laughed. "Takes one to know one. 'Cept you're a woman, darling."

"At the moment, that's my misfortune." The only man she'd ever developed feelings for just _had_ to be Captain Jack Sparrow. A bloody pirate. Though the fact that he was a pirate didn't bother her. What bothered her was that Jack treated her just like every other woman he'd ever kissed. An object to be desired. Nothing more, nothing less.

"For what it's worth, luv, you're not such a bad kisser. Romantic picture, wasn't it? On the deck of a ship sailing the crystalline waters under the stars...your sad little tears. I 'ate to see a woman cry. Gets me right 'ere." He softly pounded his chest with his fist.

"How poetic, you—"

Evy narrowed her eyes. Had Jack just said what she thought he said?

"What?" he asked.

"I thought you didn't remember," she accused in a dangerously soft voice.

Jack had obviously heard the menace to her tone and began inching away from her. "Remember what?" he asked dumbly.

"I only told you about the kiss. I didn't say where it took place or that I was also crying at the time."

His chin wagged as he spluttered about to answer her.

"You lied," she hissed.

Jack puckered his brow as she waited for an answer. Finally, he shrugged while saying, "Pirate."

Evy's fingers moved towards her pistol in response, but instead she growled in anger and scooted out from under the rock shelter.

He followed her. "Just a tiny white lie."

"Give it whatever color you want, it's still a lie."

"Where you going, luv?"

She'd started back up the incline determined to get as far away from him as possible.

"Away from you!" She did stop, though, determined to have the last cruel word. "Quality, not quantity, Jack."

He swaggered up to her, trying to keep his flailing balance. "I don't follow you, luv."

"No, you don't. You never will, you bloody stupid man."

"Sticks and stones, dearie. I've been called worse."

"And it's never made a difference. A woman here and there. Kisses here and there, but never anything more. _Quality_ not _quantity_, Jack. That's why the only friend you'll carry with you to the grave is another bottle of rum."

Evy ran on and Jack didn't follow. Having said all that left her empty and not satisfied as she had hoped. Probably because it wouldn't matter in the end. No matter how many terribly cruel things she said, she'd never make him understand that she cared too much. The farther she ran the closer Jack seemed. He'd followed only in her mind and wouldn't bloody get out. Those dark eyes wouldn't stop staring. She kept looking over her shoulder, but each time the path behind was empty. Evy was both grateful and both sad. If she so much as looked at him, she'd probably shoot him, but if he'd return her gaze with those black eyes, she knew she'd be so happy. Her thoughts were getting too convoluted. What she needed was a blast of icy water to sting her face.

For the first time in her life, Evy was speechless. Jack had called her on it, but she wasn't about to admit anything to _him_. She'd known him long enough now to realize lying was one of his many specialties and two could play at that game.

Matching his grin with one of her own, she pried his fingers off gently. "Jack, you're a smart man, therefore, you should be able to see the truth for what it _really_ is."

His eyes narrowed, smile faltering a little. "And what is that?"

She smiled regrettably. "I'm sorry for leading you on."

"You...were leading _me_ on?" he asked, eyes widening in surprise.

"Well, yes," she said, feigning embarrassment for her actions. "I've been feeling a bit sad lately, but that's past and I suppose I took advantage of you."

Jack looked as though he'd just been punched in the head. The wheels of his mind were obviously spinning very fast as he absorbed her confession. It seemed he was putting forth a great deal of effort to hide his surprise. He stared hard at her as though unable to believe it and Evy couldn't help but feel proud of herself for having convinced him speechless.

She patted him on the arm. "No hard feelings, eh?"

He grinned again, though it wasn't as bright as it had been. "Course not, luv. Take advantage anytime you want, darling. I'll be 'appy to oblige."

"Right," she said slowly. "Let's move on shall we?"

**They have to spend the night alone and they make up, Evy makes her plan, confuses Jack and then they're caught.**

she kidnapped briefly by the tribe of women and makes a deal with them, Jack for her brother, returns to Jack and begins her ruse.

"Is there anywhere you haven't been?"

Jack scratched the stubble on his cheek, lost in thought until he smiled proudly. "No, luv. I've been everywhere you can imagine."

Evy cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. "You're saying, every city in every country on every continent?"

"I didn't say that, little missy. I said everywhere you can imagine and maybe a few places you cannot."

"I can imagine quite a lot, Jack."

They'd been going uphill and footing became increasingly difficult as the land rose. Somewhere along the way, he'd taken her hand to help her up the steep terrain.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Pirate Scum

A mixture of berries and nuts dropped between the gaps and hit the dirt at Emerson's feet, rolling around until it scattered the small floor of the pit. His hands were tied in front, fortunately, and picking up the berries was simple enough. He'd only managed a small handful before the rest of it was gobbled up by the pirate Strongman, and his mates. Tarrington eyed the meager meal with scorn and turned his face away; shunning what little sustenance they'd been allowed.

Emerson had tried to catch a glimpse of the woman that had been giving them food, but the most he saw were a pair of hands. She dropped the food quickly and left just as fast, as though she wasn't supposed to be there. He wanted to thank her, but always restrained himself. He didn't want her found out by the others.

"What do you suppose they'll do with us?" asked Strongman, munching on his berries.

"Kill us, o' course," answered his mate.

"We don't know that," Emerson pointed out. "We're being fed. They can't be completely heartless."

"Yes, I agree," said Tarrington. "Perhaps we can use that to our advantage."

Emerson didn't like the murderous glint in the old man's eyes. "She's probably risking her life. It won't do us any good if we get her caught. You're liable to get us killed sooner."

Tarrington smiled in a patronizing way. "You are not familiar with the practice, 'every man for himself'. I do not intend to allow savage _women_ to control my life. As a former officer of the Royal Navy, diplomacy was an essential technique when dealing with miscreants."

"Is that how you intend to escape?"

"At first, but I'll make sacrifices along the way if necessary."

Emerson left it at that. There was nothing he could do at present. The girl was obviously risking her life, why, Emerson couldn't imagine, but it was appreciated. If it weren't for his cellmates, he'd attempt conversation and maybe find a sympathetic ear or learn what was happening with his sister.

Some hours ago, Evy had suddenly appeared. A foreboding feeling began creeping into his stomach. He'd told her not to do anything stupid, but he knew Evy well enough to be worried.

Evy yanked at the ropes that tied her hands behind her back, but merely burned sensitive skin with the effort. The knots were too tight and the gag covering her mouth stank of something rotten. She'd been dumped in a dark corridor inside the caves where the fabled treasure was supposedly hidden. Little light was available. Sconces were attached to the cave walls, but only one torch was lit some ways down the corridor. It seemed as though Marta wished to make Evy as uncomfortable or as frightened as possible.

She glanced forlornly at the now uneven length of her hair. Part of it had been crudely cut off and left as a message for Jack. Evy wasn't entirely convinced he'd fall for it. He wasn't stupid. Not entirely.

Although Marta had been tight-lipped about Jack's previous visit, Evy suspected that Jack had double-crossed her somehow. That was the only sensible explanation for the burning revenge.

It seemed as though she'd been trapped here for days, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours. The longer she waited in the darkness, the more she began to regret her hasty betrayal.

_Betrayal_.

That vicious word kept burrowing into her brain like a parasite. She was treacherously involved in Jack's capture and obsessing over the guilt. The more she tried to ignore it, the worse she felt. But how else could she save her brother's life? Marta's clan outnumbered them ten to one. There was no way to save Emerson without handing over Jack. Her brother was worth twice that pirate wretch. Yet she couldn't stop thinking about what would happen to Jack once she and her brother escaped. In all probability, it would be nothing less than execution, but not before they chopped off his appendages.

Evy briskly shook her head to throw out the gruesome images popping into her thoughts. No, she couldn't concern herself with Jack anymore. He'd trade her life to save his own skin. Mr. Gibbs had known Jack for years, but would probably find himself staring down the barrel of a pistol while Jack abandoned him to save his own life. That pirate cared for no one but himself. He certainly didn't care about her. In fact, if he found the treasure before Marta could hatch her game plan, he'd probably leave her and her brother to fend for themselves.

A taste of his own medicine served him right. She curtly nodded her head as if to affirm this decision. It was done. Turning back would mean the death of them all. Her only consolation was to keep reminding herself that Jack wouldn't hesitate to hand her over if it meant he'd escape without a scratch.

She repeated this over and over to her guilt-ridden mind until a slow anger began to burn. Anger at Jack and the injustice of the feelings he'd created.

The sudden appearance of Marta and two other women startled her out of her thoughts. The grin on the tall woman's face was nothing short of disturbing.

"Bring her," commanded Marta.

She was pulled to her feet and shunted along the dark cavernous passageways. Evy couldn't help but glance down each corridor they passed, wondering if their end was a pile of gold.

"No doubt you are wondering about the coming destination," began Marta, as though she was giving Evy a tour of her quaint little home.

Evy's eyes widened at the sight before her.

They'd entered a circular cave that was nearly twenty feet high and twice as wide. In the center of the cavern rested an unusual device, constructing mainly of thick bamboo reeds. Numerous holes formed a haphazard circle around the bamboo contraption. Matching this were smaller versions built above each hole with mounds of rope piles next to them. Seven of the women set to work, one assigned herself to the large contraption and the other six approached the holes, one for each of them, and began readying the devices for use.

The ropes were taken to the main apparatus in the center and securely tied. Each rope was then carried back to the other holes and attached to the smaller devices. The ropes, Evy noted, were rotted and old. In the air above them, the ropes were connected to what looked like a pulley system joined with the large contraption. Every single device was tested once to make sure they properly worked.

The bottom dropped from Evy's stomach as the pulleys lowered short, but undoubtedly sharp, sickles above the six holes. Their intended purpose was not difficult to understand. The blades rested a hair's breadth from the ropes. If the pulleys were activated, the blades would slice through the rotting ropes, dropping the victim down into something decidedly terrible. Marta grabbed Evy's arm and approached the closet of the holes. She dropped her torch down into the depths and when the clatter of its landing reverberated back, Evy dared to peak, noting the long razors protruding from the ground inside. Scattered bones were a grim reminder that her skeleton would probably be joining the ranks.

Yet she still wondered about the main apparatus in the center. It too had a construction all its own. Before she could consider it further, Marta began to speak.

"I've always had an interest in architecture," she was informed. "Treasure hunters find their way to my island and often meet their end here."

Suddenly, the glow from the torches caught the brilliance of a jewel hanging around Marta's neck. Evy couldn't help but gawk at such a large gemstone. Breathtaking blues sparkled richly as the torchlight caressed its perfect contours. It was as though the sky was contained within the confines of the stone, begging to be released with each radiant shimmer. In that agonizing second, Evy positively ached to have it.

Marta continued speaking, shaking Evy from her hypnotic state. "This is simply a device to change their minds about taking what doesn't belong to them."

Evy couldn't help but ask. "Did you build this before or after Jack paid you a visit?"

The tall woman's face hardened. "Before," she said curtly. "But he'll not fool me this time. I've made changes to it."

Though she knew she'd only make this angry woman even angrier, she just couldn't keep her burning curiosity at bay.

"Just what exactly did he do to you?"

"We've been on this island for a long time, Evelyn Dawes. We'd lost count of the days by the time Jack and his little ship found our humble dwelling."

Evy waited for the next part, figuring she knew what Marta would say.

"He promised to take us off the island. Obviously, the wretch lied," she hissed.

"Obviously," she agreed automatically. "Did he know about the treasure?"

"Of course. Only when he saw the size of the treasure did he promise to help us leave."

"Jack knows every hoard in the Caribbean and beyond," Evy commented, "but there's always something very specific he has in mind."

Marta lifted the pendant about her neck. "He wanted this, but I stopped him."

"How?"

She smiled enigmatically as though recalling a private memory she'd rather not share. "I'm rather curious myself, Evelyn Dawes. He's brought you all the way here, but he's told you nothing of his previous encounter?"

Evy remained quiet, annoyed by Marta's amusement.

"Hmm, seems he's taken us both for a fool, but with _your_ help, we can avenge the honor he has stolen. This plan will, unfortunately, require some sacrifice on your part," she added.

"What?" she asked cautiously.

"As Jack is a man of unpredictable nature, the plan shall require a little...incentive." She grinned nastily. "You shall have the pleasure of being that incentive."

The bottom dropped from her stomach and she seriously thought about throwing up. She should have known Marta would somehow double-cross _her_. She probably never intended for _anyone_ to walk off this island alive.

Evy peered down into the blackness of the pit, cringing when she saw sharp objects jutting up from the ground. The torch Marta had dropped still burned below and the flames bounced off the cruel steel.

"This was not part of the agreement!" Evy snapped, enraged.

Marta grinned nastily. "Our agreement was that you would help us to capture Jack. We never agreed on the _manner_ in which you would capture him."

"Then you've gone back on your word! You intend to kill me too?" She stepped up to the intimidating woman, appearing much braver than she actually felt.

"I don't go back on my promises, Miss Dawes, unless forced to," she warned, eyes dark like a raging storm. "What of your promise? Do you intend to change your mind?"

Evy squared her jaw. "Not unless I'm forced to."

Her lips twitched amusingly. "Well spoken."

A woman entered the cave, spear in hand and announced, "Sparrow is near, and we've brought the rest."

"Excellent. The more the merrier," said Marta delightedly as though they were about to have a tea party. "Let the games begin." She motioned to a group of her women and they disappeared around a corner of a passageway. "We don't want you to get lonely while you wait for Sparrow."

Emerson and five other men, including Mr. Gibbs, were herded into the room, each of them with a pistols digging into their backs.

"I demand you release me!" yelled a burly man. "I am Colonel Tarrington of His Majesty's Navy! I will not allow savages to manhandle me!"

"I see no men, therefore, no manhandling is taking place," said Marta, approaching the crowd of prisoners.

"Evy! Are you all right?" Emerson cried in alarm.

"Never better. I think I'd like to build a home here," she said dryly.

"How dare a female of your ill-breeding address me as though you share the class of which I was born!" hollered Tarrington at Marta.

"You're not going to hurt me, are you?" whimpered a little man next to Tarrington, his pirates hat lopsided rather ridiculously.

"More women to curse the ground upon which we men stand," grumbled Mr. Gibbs, eying the women darkly.

"Show some spine, Captain Strongman. Live up to your name for heaven sakes!" blasted Tarrington.

"A home here might be acceptable to you, me and Dad, but I doubt Mum would agree with you," Emerson said lightly, while his hands were being tied together.

"Always a woman," Gibbs said grimly. "Always a woman what gets a pirate's throat cut."

"SHUT UP!" bellowed Marta. "The next person to open their mouth will die immediately."

Evy couldn't resist, as angry as she was. "Well, won't that be messy?"

"Evy shut up!" her brother hissed.

Marta strode over to her, grabbed her arm and pushed her backwards to the edge of the pit. "I could kill you right now and put an end to our charade," she said only loud enough for Evy to hear.

"You could," she agreed. "But it's Jack that you really want dead, and we both know he'd never let that happen."

Marta jerked Evy away from the edge. "There's a first time for everything."

Jack opened bleary eyes to find his loudmouthed companion had disappeared. He felt unusually concerned about this. Strange sensation, that. Not a pleasant one either. As upset as she had been last night, she'd probably wandered off on her own. Fortunate for him though, as he could travel in peaceful silence for a change. Just because it was fun to see her eyes turn red with fire didn't mean he didn't get tired of that mouth.

He stood, hips veering to the right as his fumbling feet attempted to find a steady step on the incline. From the corner of his eye, something flashed in the sunlight. Jack's mouth watered as he stared longingly at the half-full bottle of rum lying on the ground. He lunged for it, even though there was no one else around to steal it, and yanked out the cork. Swallowing another mouthful, he swirled it amongst his teeth, savoring the sweet nectar of life. Jack smacked his lips merrily and decided on another drink, however, some force greater than any he'd ever felt, stayed his hand, halting the rim short of his mouth.

As he studied the bottle, his stomach lurched uncomfortably.

_Why_ would this bottle of rum just be lying on the ground in the middle of the path? Evy would _never_ leave it for him purposely. Jack glanced over one shoulder and then the other. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but the jungle was strangely quiet. There was no wind to rustle the greenery. There were no eyes staring at him from between the trees. Evy was gone. Nothing remained but the rum.

"Something is amiss," he said suspiciously.

The amber liquid swished enticingly, catching the warm light from the sky. Jack charged up the path, swallowing a big mouthful for good measure, put the cork back and shoved it in his coat pocket. Just as quickly as he'd gone up the incline, he slipped on something. Arms frantically wind-milling, Jack struggled for balance, but fell anyway. He rolled onto his stomach and braced his arms to push himself up, spitting out a mouthful of hair. Hair that was not his.

It was a long strand, brown and very fuzzy, held together with a plain leather strap. One end was crudely shaped, as though it had been cut with a knife. Evy had occasionally worn her hair back with this strap. Obviously, this lock of hair was left as a message for him.

The ferocious lady tribe was holding Evy hostage and were using her as bait to get his attention. Could they be any more obvious? He traced his thumb over the bluntly cut ends of her hair. Hopefully, he wouldn't find anything else that had been cut off. Jack stowed the strands inside his coat next to the rum for safekeeping.

Another hour of steady climbing and Jack was there. The summit that housed the lady clan and their enormous golden horde was but two feet away. It wasn't just the gold, either, there was the rare blue diamond. Jack salivated just thinking about it. He'd been unlucky in finding it the first time and he was banking on Evy having acquired her father's pick-pocketing skills by way of the gene pool. Though his theory hadn't actually been tested yet, Jack believed it to be true. That girl was half-pirate, therefore, half-liar and half-thief.

He'd have that diamond in his hands before dessert.

"Speak of the devil," Marta said gleefully when Jack stumbled into the room, two spears forcing him inside.

"Mind where you point those things, girls." He on turned a roguish smile. "Ah, Marta! Long time no see, luv. 'ow've you been?"

"Splendid," she answered amiably. "Now that our guest of honor has arrived."

Jack held out his arms for a hug, but she made a grab for Evy, pressing a dagger to her throat. He froze, narrowing his eyes. She wondered what he could be thinking. Fear for her life or his own?

"No, thank you. I prefer blades to hugs." She made a jerking motion with her chin and his weapons were snatched from his belt.

He gazed sadly at the missing cutlass and pistol. "Why must they always confiscate me beloved effects?"

"Can you guess as to the nature of this little gathering, Sparrow?"

His eyes swept over his two crewmembers, the other pirates and rested lastly on Evy's face, but she could not hold his gaze for another wave of guilt shot into the pit of her stomach.

"A surprise party for yours truly? Excellent! Drinks all around!"

"Wrong!" she hissed, pressing the blade just under her ear. The point nicked the sensitive skin and Evy winced, but to her credit, didn't cry out. She was too scared to make any noise.

Jack shrugged his shoulders as though bored already. "Marta, darling, it's with me that you 'ave an everlasting quarrel. Just let this bonnie lass and 'er brother go. I can even tie meself up if you like. I'm quite good at things like that."

"Tempting," she agreed, "but that would be too easy. I could kill you right now with just one word to my comrades, but then we couldn't play my game."

"You're in luck, I 'appen to like games."

"Good." She lowered the dagger away from Evy's neck, who breathed a much needed sigh of relief. "You recall this machine, do you not?"

"Aye," he answered in the affirmative, "Though it does look a bit more fancy the second time around."

"You forced me to make modifications."

"Glad to be of service," he said smugly.

"Not exactly something to be proud of, Jack," Evy said quietly.

"You should listen to her."

Marta spread out her arms and one by one, Emerson, Mr. Gibbs and the others were jerked upward by their arms, the pulleys raising the ropes until their bodies were dangling over the holes in the cave floor.

"Same song different tune, luv," he said. "What exactly do you require of my valuable services?"

"Rescue them."

"Easy enough," he said nonchalantly.

"But you haven't seen the best part," she reminded him with a tsk of her tongue. "The part I added after you abandoned me here."

Evy was pushed to the center device. They tied her arms and legs to the bamboo reeds and to her horror, fitted a very long, very deadly spear into slots on the opposite side of the device, restrained only by rusted springs. Ten feet was what stood between her and a pierced heart.

Only now did she see how much danger she'd put herself in to hand over Jack. Marta truly was genius, except for the tiny part about her being insane. As she stared at the spear in horrified wonder, she began to understand how it worked. All of the ropes holding up the dangling people were in some way connected to the reeds holding her captive.

"As you can see," Marta said, pointing to the ropes restraining the spear, "This weapon is pulled taut by these springs. The only way to free her is cut these men down first. There is a small hitch, however."

"Wouldn't be any fun if there weren't, darling," he grinned.

"Time is your enemy, Jack. Save these men from falling to their deaths—if you can beat the sickles slicing their ropes, but each time a rope is cut, one of the springs will release the spear. Your little woman is closer to death as each spring falls away."

Evy gulped, unable to stop staring at the spear level with her stomach.

"I don't possibly see how you can save all these people in time. Such a dilemma," Marta said with mock concern.

Jack grinned. "What you call a dilemma, luv, I call a challenge worthy of Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Five minutes," she snapped, sneering as he said _Captain_, "That's all that stands between your _bonnie lass_ and a very painful death."

"Yes, yes, yes," Jack said impatiently, "Dire situation, death imminent... what else is new?"

"You don't fully grasp the matter at hand, Jack. This is not the last dire situation you'll encounter and death will remain imminent to the end."

He still didn't seem too concerned when he glanced over his shoulder at Evy. "Don't worry, luv. Dear old Jack will save you."

"We're _all_ going to die," she moaned under her breath.

Jack made a face.

With a sweeping motion of her arm, she motioned to her companions. Eerie combinations of clicking and winding sounds sent waves of fear rocketing through her chest. The long sickle blades began hacking at the ropes. Their movement shook the reeds around her and the spear quivered. She feared the springs wouldn't hold. They were as rusty as the ropes were rotten.

"Five minutes," she reminded him.

One of Strongman's crew suddenly fell. The sickle above him had neatly cut the rope in two. Gibbs, who'd been hanging closest to the man, watched him fall, mouth open in horror.

"I said it, didn't I? 'Twas bad luck to bring women on the _Pearl_. Now our entrails will be all that's left!"

"Oh, dear, I guess his rope was just too old," said Marta over her shoulder as she and her comrades left Jack to his own devices.

As soon as the rope was cut, one spring fell and the spear loosed, shooting forward. Evy shrieked, her breath coming in hitches as the five remaining springs caught the spear, stopping it's death run.

"Jack, whatever you're going to do, do it fast!" Emerson yelled.

"What's the magic word?" he asked cheekily.

"RUM!" Evy barked.

Jack blinked in surprise. "I was looking for please, but rum will do nicely, darling."

He went to work, but the blades had a large gain on him already. Cutting them down would be quickest, but to do so left a great margin for error. If his timing were but a second too late, Evy would die.

"All right gents, let's get to it."

"What's your plan?" asked Emerson.

"Ain't got one," he answered.

"Then think of one!" cried Strongman hysterically.

"Jack do this. Jack do that," he grumbled. "Who in blazes are you anyway?"

"Captain Strongman, if you please, and we've—"

"Save introductions for later, I'm rather busy at the moment," Jack interrupted.

Evy's eyes darted from the spear to Jack and then to the spear again. It shuttered with each twist of the pulleys, the ropes making it shake.

Jack clapped his hands together. "All right! I've got it. Said I would didn't I?" He reached under his jacket and produced another pistol. "I've taken to carrying two on me person. People seem to want me dead more and more these days. Can't imagine why. I'm really quite loveable."

For support, he grabbed onto the reeds from which Emerson hung, stretched out over the pit, pushed him in the back and he began to swing.

"Uh...what exactly are you doing?" he asked, peering under his arm, trying to look at Jack.

"Formulating my plan of incredible ingenuity. Now, Mr. Dawes, swing yourself back and forth."

Emerson began to twist and turn until he got a respectable speed going. "Now what?"

"I'll shoot the rope. You jump."

"Jump where exactly?"

"Well, not straight down would be me choice, mate, unless you prefer to be a human shish kabob."

Gibbs' rope didn't slice in half, but it did unravel, dropping him closer to a grim fate. A second later, the spear shook madly. The springs' shrill whine nearly sent her into hysterics.

"Jack, please hurry," she begged, eyes wide with panic.

"Swing faster, kid," he urged, eying the spear dubiously. He waved his arms. "Everyone start swinging please."

Emerson's speed weighed down the reeds. They began to crack. Jack raised his pistol, closed one eye and aimed. Emerson swung forward again. With barely a second passing, Jack fired. The rope severed, and Emerson caught himself on the edge, managing to push himself up with his foot. The second spring fell and Evy braced herself for the worst, just in case Marta's invention wasn't as sturdy as she claimed. But it was caught by the remaining four restraints.

She wriggled her feet and hands, hoping to free herself and with luck, her right foot wasn't as tight as her left. Yanking and twisting, she managed to free one leg and now concentrated on the other. With surprising stoicism, she ignored the spear as it lunged closer, for Gibbs was now free and ridding himself of the restraints on his wrists.

"Cheers, mates!" Jack saluted Captains Tarrington and Strongman. He strutted confidently over to Evy and began untying the rope around her ankle.

"You can't just leave us here to die!" yelled Tarrington in frightened outrage.

"Says who?" he countered, pulling a long knife from his boot. "Dear old Marta didn't know about this one. Ha!" He sliced the rope away.

"Jack, he's right," Emerson said.

Jack looked at her brother as though he'd expressed a desire to have tea with a kraken. "Where were you when I was giving me 'It's every pirate for 'imself speech?"

"These crazy women outnumber us by a lot more than we can handle," he pointed out.

"Aye, Cap'n," said Gibbs grudgingly. "We might need all the help we can get."

"But you do realize, Mr. Dawes, that they're 'alfway across the room, and Evy will be all the way over 'ere getting 'er innards some fresh air?"

"Then we can just free her now," he said, grabbing Jack's knife.

"But if we do that," Gibbs said, "The ropes holding up the others will break and there goes our extra help."

"He's right," Emerson added. "The ropes are all connected. We do one thing, they die—"

"Which is acceptable," Jack threw in.

"But we do another, then Evy dies."

Gibbs had already gone across the cave. "Jack, we can shoot their ropes with your pistol, three men to three men, but not all at once. That might give you some extra time to get back to Evy."

"There's a big margin for error, but I'm willing to take that risk," she said firmly.

"I'm not!" he yelled with astonishing force.

"You don't have a choice," she said quietly. "You can kill them later if you want," she added helpfully.

Jack looked as though he wanted to argue some more, but apparently thought the better of it. He stalked away to the other end of the cave, Emerson in tow. His tall figure got smaller by the second and she wondered if there really was enough time. She began working on the ropes still binding her wrists, hoping to loosen them.

"On the count of three mates. Evy, luv? Are you ready?"

She mumbled a squeaky yes.

"Start swinging, mates!"

The remaining three pirates complied. Jack shot through the rope holding Strongman and he fell. The little man barely caught himself on the edge by his fingertips. Jack tossed his pistol to Emerson, who set to work on reloading.

Another spring fell and the spear was now just two feet from her middle. Jack was sprinting across the cave floor, leaping over the pits in his way. A further shot and Tarrington dropped neatly just at the edge.

Her heart pounded wildly and yet it seemed as though time had formed a languid pace. Jack still seemed so far away. One wrist was free. She fought to release the other, but it was too tight.

The final shot rang out and the last spring wasted no time. Jack made a dive for Evy, catching her about the waist and twisting her away. Her conscious registered another gunshot, but from where she was unsure and seconds later she landed hard on the stone floor, hitting her head.

Tarrington lowered the smoking pistol, which he'd pulled from his boot. He'd shot through the rope. The spear wavered back and forth in the cave wall, having struck the reeds and leaving a splintered hole in its wake.

Evy groaned. Her head was aching where she'd hit it. A little bump was already forming. Jack groaned too.

"Not as young as I used to be," he said. "You all right, luv?"

She was looking up at him in shock. "You did it."

He grinned and seeing an opportunity in front of him, planted a kiss right on her mouth.

"'ow could you ever doubt me?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" she asked, rubbing her head.

"Let me see," he said, checking her injury. "No blood. No guts. You'll live to see tomorrow."

"Glad to hear it."

Emerson was brushing the dust off his breeches. Strongman still clung to the ledge, stubby little legs unable to make any headway. His pirate friend grabbed Strongman's arms and hoisted him up and out of danger.

"How did you do that?" Evy asked Tarrington. "I thought they'd taken all your weapons too."

"They didn't find this one," he said, tucking the now unloaded pistol back into his boot.

"But if you've been carrying a loaded pistol all this time, then why in blazes didn't you shoot those crazy women who'd captured us?" spat Strongman.

"My dear Captain, I've learned through many years of experience and a few close shaves with death, that sometimes one shot is all it takes to save your life. I always carry one shot with me for insurance."

"Why save mine?" Evy asked suspiciously.

"It was an opportunity. I wasted no time, and a lovely lady such as yourself needed rescuing. I was only doing what a gentleman should."

"Bloody crazy that is," Jack commented. "Wasting a perfectly good shot for a pretty face never helped a man."

Evy shot him a look.

"I—I mean, of course it wasn't a waste. It's just that I 'ad everything under control. 'e butted 'is big nose in. Did I mention that you indeed are beautiful? Ravishing in fact," he finished lamely.

"Pirate scum," spat Tarrington with a mean chuckle.

"I know you are but what am I?" Jack retorted childishly.

"Thanks, Jack. That means a lot," she said, unable to hide the hurt.

"Now, darling, you know I didn't mean—"

"Let's just try to find a way out of here," she cut in, grabbing her brother's arm.

They headed for the nearest exit, which turned out to be another long corridor. Evy didn't know what else Marta had planned, but she was eager to get this over with. Just when she thought Jack might be showing her an ounce of caring, he went and made a comment like that. Handing him over to Marta in pieces might not be such a bad idea after all. Tarrington fell into step beside them.

"Thank you," she said cautiously, still wary of the man.

"Think nothing of it, my dear. As I said, a gentleman's duty is to protect the fragile female."

"My sister is anything but fragile," Emerson snapped. "And don't pretend to be a friend. This whole thing is your fault."

"Mine?"

"That was our father you had thrown in jail and nearly hanged!"

He studied their faces closely. "Ah, yes. I do see a resemblance. Same eyes, I think."

"You leave us alone, do you hear me?"

"Same half-cocked spirit, as well, I should wager. Tell me young lady, do you also share your brother's wild streak?"

Emerson had dragged her ahead of the others before she could answer. "Stay away from him. We can't trust him."

"We can't trust anyone but each other," she agreed.

"That's not entirely true," he corrected. "We can trust Jack and Gibbs."

"I will not put my faith in that blasted pirate," she hissed and lowered her voice so they wouldn't hear. "He's our ticket out of here."

Emerson looked at her sharply. "What are you talking about?"

"Marta said she'd let us go if I give her Jack."

A vein pulsed at his temple. "You didn't…agree—yes, you did!"

"Shh!" She glanced over her shoulder, but they had a good enough lead on everyone else.

"You're just going to leave him here?" he asked in astonishment. "I won't let you do that. You'd never forgive yourself."

"And I won't let you stop me."

"Evy, you're just angry. When you've calmed down—"

"He'd do it to me, or you. He'd do it to our father, even though he claims to be a friend. I'm just beating him to the punch."

"How can you be so cold about this?" he asked in shock.

"I was listening to Jack's speech about every pirate for himself," she said cruelly. "I'm following that bloody code if it's the last thing I do."


End file.
